Brothers Kingslayer
by SupremeMasterOverlordKhurro
Summary: Tyrion finally returns to Kinglanding, but has second thoughts on killing Jaime. Their only bad blood was that little lie about Tysha, and Tyrion has questions that need to be answered and can only be answered by Jaime. But Jaime is not the same man he left in the Red Keep. Getting the answers will not be as simple as he would hope for. And it may take longer than he planned.
1. Chapter 1: Tyrion

**Hello fanfiction! I have finally returned after a rather long break of not writing. I guess I should probably update a few stories, but my current obsession is A Song of Ice and Fire (Game of Thrones), so I decided to introduce myself to that fandom world with this rather pointless one-shot.**

 **But why is there a section for the books, but not the show?**

 **Whatever.**

 _ **Setting the scene for this fanfiction**_ **: I'm only on season 2 of the show (but I've watched enough spoilers to pretty much how the first episode of season 6 went) and I'm on the very last book.**

 **This story is based mainly on the books.**

 **Tyrion is contemplating on Jaime one night, as he waits to invade Westeros with Dany and her followers. I'm skipping ahead quite a lot in the series for this.**

 **Now, in the books, Tyrion did not leave on very good terms with Jaime. Jaime had freed him, but also confessed to lying to Tyrion years ago after being told to by his dad. (Basically, Tyrion had gone and married a common girl who he met on the road one day with Jaime. When Tywin found out Tyrion had married this girl, he made Jaime claim that the girl was actually a whore they hired to make Tyrion a man. Tywin then made Tyrion watch while ever man in the barracks raped his wife, Tysha, and then he forced to do it himself. Tysha was paid and it never says what happened to her after that. Tyrion still loved her and missed her. As it turns out, when Jaime frees Tyrion, he says that he lied about Tysha being a whore. He says that Tywin had told him to lie to him, and so he hadn't felt like he had a choice. Tyrion was pretty mad about this. He left Jaime alive, but then he went on to kill Tywin and Shae as he had in the show.)**

 **Now in this one shot (possible two-shot), Dany, Tyrion, and army are about to invade Westeros, heading straight for Kings Landing. They know there is no love for the Lannisters in the Red Keep, and they know they'll find little resistance. They expect to make land fall in a few hours.**

Tyrion Lannister lay back on his bunk below deck, staring up at the bunk above him and listening to the snoring of the others around them. The waves were gently beating the side of the boat. The ride out of Kings Landing all those months ago had been brutally hard, physically and emotionally. Now, the ride was much easier physically. He wasn't getting nearly as sick. But emotionally, it was almost bitter sweet. Tyrion loved Westeros, even if it did not love him. No one loves a dwarf, but it mattered not. This was a land Tyrion knew, and he had been dreaming of his return since he first learned that Deanery's Targaryen was still alive. He could get his revenge. Kill Cersei. Kill Jaime. Shouldn't that thought make him happy? He never had any love for his sister, and he had dreamed of killing Jaime since his brother had confessed to lying about Tysha. But where Cersei had always been mean to Tyrion, Jaime had not. Jaime had treated him as if he was a normal sized man, treated him like a brother. The only bad blood between them that mattered was that lie.

The thought of killing Jaime had once filled Tyrion with determination. But now, he hesitated. His brother had freed him knowing the danger of it if they ever found out that Ser Jaime the Kingslayer had released a prisoner accused of regicide, even if it was a false claim. Jaime had always taken stupid risks in his life. It was the way he was, the way he always had been. Growing up on Casterly Rock, Jaime had been Tyrion's only real friend. While his big brother was often training or learning something, he had spent much of his free time with either one of his siblings.

Tyrion remembered taking a few lessons with Jaime. While Jaime struggled to read, claiming the letters floated off the page and moved around, Tyrion excelled at reading. He had caught up to and passed his brother quickly. They had a few horse riding lessons together too, though Jaime had always been the better one at that, charging up and down the hills and galloping along trails as fast as his horse could take him. Tyrion was better with counting coin, reading, writing, and remembering histories. Jaime was better with jousting and sword fighting and riding horses. They had balanced each other out in that way, and would've made a wonderful team had Tywin not refused.

As he lay there, Tyrion could hear someone on deck getting sick. The Dothraki were not sea folk, and the sea agreed with their stomach as well as Tyrion and Cersei agreed. The sounds made Tyrion remember one of the times Jaime had been sick to his stomach, back when Tyrion was 5 and Jaime was 14.

Flashback~

 _That day Jaime hadn't come down to break his fast. That wasn't too unusal, as sometimes the younger of the twins liked to eat in his room by himself, especially if he had had a hard training session the day before. When Tyrion had first seen Jaime that day, it had been for their lessons on reading. They always started with reading. Tywin himself would try to teach Jaime, after getting frustrated when he boy would refuse anyone else who tried to teach him. For four hours each day, they would sit there and go over the books. It drove Jaime mad, Tyrion could tell. That day especially. Jaime had been late, which had already put Tywin in the bad mood. Then his brother tried to say he wasn't feeling well and didn't want to read. Tywin had told him to sit and read. After a few minutes, Jaime had again protested, saying his head hurt. For about an hour, Tyrion had watched._

 _After that hour, Jaime had gotten frustrated enough after once again being corrected on some word –which one, Tyrion couldn't remember, but it had been a long word with a lot of letters and to this day, Jaime could not pronounce it correctly- Jaime had thrown the books off the table, crossed his arms and glared at his father claiming that reading was stupid and pointless and he wouldn't do it today. He had then tried to get up, but Tywin had whacked Jaime in the face with a book hard enough to knock the 14 year old to the floor._

" _You'll pick up that book you threw and you'll read the first 3 chapters out loud. Correctly." Tywin had said, while Jaime wiped the blood from his nose. He had gone and picked up the book, sitting back down and doing as he was told, wiping his nose and dripping blood onto the pages and himself, looking utterly miserable. It took him the whole four hours plus two more to finish it. The words had seemed to float extra, and the book was long and boring and filled with long words. Tywin had given Jaime a break after the regular four hours, allowing him to change into less bloody clothes and use the chamber pot, which Jaime had already asked to use 3 times and been denied. Then he was made to continue. Tyrion had stayed the whole time, pretending to read a different book. He had learned that day that Tywin was as unmovable as a large boulder. While it was possible to move it, you would need several people and maybe a few tools as well._

 _During the midday meal, Jaime had disappeared into his room where Tyrion had figured he had eaten alone again. It wasn't until he saw Jaime heading out to the field to train with their master-at-arms that he realized Jaime had not eaten, but had been sleeping. His hair was messier and there was that certain sleepy look on his brother's face that he often had when he first woke up. As far as Tyrion knew, Jaime still had that sleepy expression first thing in the morning or after a nap, if he ever got the chance for one these days._

 _Either way, he had watched Jaime train, as he and Cersei would often do. It was one of the few things they ever did together: watch Jaime train, eat (with the rest of the family, of course), and sometimes play come-into-my-castle. Jaime seemed out of it. He wasn't putting the effort he normally did, he complained more, asking to end early and claiming once again that he didn't feel well. The master-at-arms had been told that Jaime had complained earlier however, and had been ordered to not let him leave early. So he pushed him harder. Several times he knocked Jaime to the ground, landing hits that would've killed him in a battle, once slipping and hitting him hard enough to knock him to the ground with enough force to knock his helm off his head and the breath from his lungs. They had almost called the maester as Jaime laid on the ground, gasping for breath like a fish out of water. But he recovered before they did, and the training continued. Then he had skipped horse lessons, sneaking out of the ring where Tyrion and the other boys –there were two, if he could remember right- and headed back to the barn, putting his horse away himself, and disappearing as he sometimes did._

 _Where Jaime would go when he disappeared, Tyrion hadn't known. He was so young back then that he hadn't really thought of following Jaime to find out. It wasn't until that he realized that Jaime would slip off to one side of the Rock were there was cave on the side of a cliff. He would hide in there, and had practice swords hidden away, even a cross bow. Jaime had been annoyed on the day that Tyrion had found him there with Cersei, and hadn't realized until he had gotten older that Jaime had brought Cersei there likely because they wouldn't be found touching each other or even having sex, though whether or not the two had started at that age, Tyrion still wasn't sure._

 _Anyway, Tywin had found out that Jaime had skipped his lessons for the end of the day, and when he found Jaime as the boy was returning, he had taken him into his room and hit him on his rear end 3 times with a big, solid wood stick. Once for each lesson he missed._

" _You'll be at dinner with the rest of us, and don't you dare try to excuse yourself early. Don't you dare act like you're in pain. You want to be a knight so bad, than grow up and act like one." Tywin had snapped at him, while Jaime stood there trying to look defiant, though Tyrion could see the tears his brother was holding back. But one thing both boys had been taught early on was that they were to never show a tear in front of their father. That evening at dinner, Jaime had come down on time with Cersei, dressed like the proper little lord he was being groomed as. Wearing the red and crimson of House Lannister, blond hair washed and brushed back out of his face, not a speck of dirt on his pretty face. Cersei had looked radiant as always, wavey blond hair long even then, with bright green eyes and the slender frame that Lords wished their daughters would have. The only difference that day was that Jaime did not look as bright as his sister did. He did not move with the grace of a proud lion, but more with the slower steps of the one that was aching and weaker. Tyrion couldn't tell if Tywin had noticed, but the other family members had come in soon after, and the dinner had started. Tyrion say beside Jaime. On Jaime's other side was Cersei, then their uncle Kevin, their Aunt Genna with her lord husband, a few more uncles and cousins and aunts that Tyrion didn't care enough to remember._

 _They had gotten maybe two plates in, and Tyrion was sure that he was only one who noticed Jaime had hardly touched his plate. The rest of them were busy talking and arguing, sharing the latest news or debating the next tourney champion. Jaime had pushed his food around the plate, but hadn't taken more than a single bite from each serving._

" _Jaime, eat." Their Aunt Genna had chided, finally seeming to have noticed. That drew the rest of the table's attention to the blond haired future knight. Jaime had glanced up briefly at his father, before dutifully putting another fork full of pork into his mouth. When it seemed they weren't satisfied with one fork full, he went for another, getting three in before the color drained from his face and he had only enough time to turn around to puke on the floor behind him, instead of on the table. Aunt Genna had jumped up to go comfort him, while Kevin told a servant to get the maester to meet them in Jaime's room, and another servant to clean up the mess. But Jaime's stomach wasn't quite done, and he vomited several more times before Aunt Genna had gotten him out of the room. Cersei had pushed her plate away, seeming to have lost her appetite after that. She wouldn't look at Jaime or at the floor. Tyrion had glanced over at their father, whose face was as unreadable as ever. He had feared that Jaime would get punished for getting sick._

 _On his way to bed that night, Tyrion had paused by the doorway to Jaime's room. Their maester was in there with him, and Jaime was curled up miserably on the bed. The chamber pot had been moved closer to bed, so he felt the urge to vomit again he would have something to do it in instead of the floor. Blankets were piled high on him, but he stilled seemed to shiver. The curtains were closed, and the only light came from a few candles. The maester was wiping Jaime's forehead with a wet cloth._

" _Come in, Tyrion. I know you're waiting." The maester hadn't even looked at the door._

" _Is he going to be okay?" Tyrion had asked, waddling into the room on his five year old dwarf legs. He stopped a few feet from the bed. Jaime seemed to be sleeping, but he was pale and sweaty and shivering as if he were freezing._

" _He should be back to normal in two or three days. He just has a sick stomach. A fever." The maester had said. But it had been more than just a sick stomach, and more than just two or three days. Jaime had been in bed for almost two weeks. He could hold no food down, he was feverish and disoriented, the light hurt his head and he always complained of being cold. Tyrion could remember being horribly afraid that his brother was dying. He remembered even Tywin talking to Uncle Kevin about the possibility of Jaime not making it. It had scared him so much when he was little, that he had taken to going into Jaime's room every night with the maester and telling Jaime he needed to get better. When his brother finally started to improve, he had been so relieved. It had been slow, almost a whole extra week before Jaime was well enough to start going to his normal lessons again. After that, Tywin had thought twice about pushing Jaime whenever he claimed to not feel well._

 _~End Flashback_

Laying there on the ship, Tyrion thought about how afraid he had been to lose his brother when that sickness had taken ahold of him. It had come close too. He could remember how much he had missed Jaime when he had first went to King's Landing the next year to be a squire for one of the King's Guard knights. Barristan the Bold was his name, if Tyrion could remember correctly. And then there was when Jaime had been raised to a Knight of the Kingsgaurd at only 15, and Tyrion could remember feeling proud that his brother had accomplished knighthood at such a young age. He remembered when he heard about Robert's Rebellion, and the fighting that gone on, how he had feared Jaime would be killed. When Jaime had killed the Mad King, Tyrion had feared that Robert Baratheon would kill him for it, but instead he had pardoned him. When the Starks came and Jaime had attacked Eddard and ran off to fight the war, and all the battles that had followed. When Jaime was captured in the Whispering Wood, how worried he had been.

There were still questioned that Tyrion wanted answers to. He wanted to ask Jaime why he had killed the Mad King, and why he hadn't told anyone his reasons. He wanted to ask Jaime why he had freed him from his cell, why Catelyn Stark had let Jaime go, how his journey back to Kings Landing had ended with him having one hand, why had he lied about Tysha. Those questions and so many more. Maybe he would wait to kill Jaime. Maybe he would listen to Jaime's answers instead, in case there was really reason to Jaime's actions and words. Tyrion would not deny that he missed the times when they were all younger and the world seemed more like a fun game instead of this game for life or death. He missed his brother. He missed correcting Jaime's pronunciation of certain words, or correcting his spelling in the letter. Sure, Jaime had gotten much, much better at reading and writing than he had been when they were all children together on Casterly Rock, but he still made a mistake here and there, if he tried to read or write too fast.

Yes, that is what he would do. If Jaime were still alive when they made landfall, Tyrion would wait until he could get answers from Jaime. If the answers weren't good enough, then he would ask Dany to at least give Jaime the option to take the black. And if he refused then he would be killed quickly. Tyrion did not hate his brother enough to torture him, but did not love him enough to keep him alive if he proved to be guilty of the crimes he was accused of without any reason as to why he had committed them.

 **Well, there ya go. A pointless short story that's been bugging me for a while now.**

 **I'm considering making this a two-shot, and having another short story on what happened when the two brothers are reunited. Of course, because we don't know exactly what's going to happen, I'll have to add my own twists and plot lines to it, but I have several ideas for it already. I have an idea for a full story too, but I want to finish the 5** **th** **book first.**

 **So please leave a review and tell me what you think!**

 **ALSO, if you don't have your fill of Game of Thrones, check out these songs on youtube! I didn't have anything to do with making them, but someone suggested them on another website and they're GREAT.**

 **Halfman's Song by Miracle of Sound**

 **When Winter Comes by Miracle of Sound**

 **AND a bit of shameless advertising.**

 **Check out my other stories!**

 **I have 1 "Fault in Our Stars" fanfiction called "Another Infinity" involving Isaac, Hazel, and two new kids, one with brain tumors and the other with bone cancer.**

 **I have 1 "The Outsiders" fanfiction called "Dallas Winston" which is just a drabble about Dallas because he was my favorite. (Ignore the ignorant AN in the beginning, I was a bitter child in those dark days of middle school)**

 **I have 1 (maybe 2?) "Harry Potter" fanfictions, titled "If Fred Lives" which is about Fred surviving the Battle of Hogwarts, escaping instead with major injuries.**

 **I have 2 "Criminal Minds" fanfictions, the better one being "The Gender Game", where Reid is taken hostage by two Femi-nazis.**

 **I have an "Iron Fey" fanfiction called "I'm Still Fey", which is supposed to be collection of one-shots about Robin Goodfellow.**

 **I have several fanfictions for the "Percy Jackson and the Olympians" fandom, the most popular being "Breaking the Oath" about an accidental romance between Artemis and Hermes and the destruction it brought on. (It's my most popular story on this website "alert" wise)**

 **I have a ton of Invader Zim fanfictions, most are horrible crack-fics that make me question my sanity. But as stated above, middle school was a strange time.**

 **I also have fanfictions written for "Legend of Korra", "The Infernal Devices", "Greek Mythology", and I believe I have a few posted for "The Mortal Instruments" too.**

 **I have about 75 fanfictions posted here. Most are really bad but I haven't deleted them because I like to go back and re-read them and wonder what in the world was going through my head when I wrote it.**

 **Anyway, please excuse my rambling and leave a review!**


	2. Chapter 2: Tyrion

**I do try to reply to reviews, and as I wrote this chapter, I got one of those reviews by people who flame stories but never sign on. If you're the one who wrote that review, let me explain.**

 **I read somewhere online (in a discussion of the BOOKS) that Jaime was 9 years older than Tyrion. If I was a year off, my bad. It happens.**

 **As for Jaime being squired at 11, I could've sworn I read he was squired around 15, and knights a few months later. Maybe I got some numbers mixed up somewhere, I look at numbers all day from school to work. Or maybe we can just say Jaime was home for that part of the story, maybe for a visit or something.**

 **In the books, I agree it says nothing about Jaime having a reading disability. I got that off the show. But it also doesn't say that he doesn't have one. It does say however, that Jaime tells Cersei that books are for maesters. He shows no interest in books really until the White Book, and even then it seems like he's only doing it because it's his responsibility as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. So maybe he DOES have a reading disorder, but G.R.R. Martin never felt the need to write it.**

 **I did read the books, paperback books to be exact. From cover to cover, in English. Unfortunately, I can't read with my eyes close though that would be quite an interesting ability.**

 **And as for Tyrion being OOC. I know he isn't the exact way he is in the books. I know when he left Kings Landing he was absolutely furious with Jaime and he's hated Cersei forever. But keep in mind, this story takes place several months (years more like, in our time. It is still winter however) after he left. A lot of things have happened since then, and I like to think that maybe he over reacted when he says he wants to kill Jaime. Who wouldn't, after going through what he went through? But Tyrion is an intelligent man, and I feel like after joining with Dany and seeing the dragons and everything else that happens, that he's going to calm down. He seems to be a very reasonable man, and I feel like he's going to want to know the reasons behind Jaime lie before he decides to kill him or not.**

 **Because no one can doubt that Jaime does have a strange sense of honor. Aerys would've killed everyone, so Jaime broke his vow and killed his king in order to protect the people. Jaime pushed Bran out of window, which is very hard to justify, but it could be because if Bran told anyone (not that he knew what he was seeing, but if he described it right, someone else would know) and somehow, someway it got to Robert and he believed it, well chances are Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella would all be killed. Jaime would probably be killed too. It was wrong of course, I'm not saying it's okay to push kids out of windows, but there's that strange sense of honor again.**

 **He goes back to Harrenhal for Brienne, he jumps into a bear pit for her UNARMED. He tries to help her keep her promise to Catelyn Stark by giving her the sword and sending her on her way to find Sansa and Arya, and he does everything in his power to avoid attacking Riverrun.**

 **Tyrion is not stupid. I feel like he would want the answers before killing the brother who actually treated him as family while the rest of the family scorned him.**

 **So basically, I apologize for any OOC-ness. I am not the mastermind who wrote this wonderful series. I'm just a fan of the books first, the show second, and everything else related to this fandom third.**

 **AND part 2.**

 **Setting the scene:**

 **Tyrion and Dany and their army have landed on the shore. They took Kingslanding easily, as many of the men had fled at the sight of dragons. The remaining Kingsguards were the only ones who stood and tried to fight, with a few of the Goldcloaks. The others yielded, desperate to get out of the mess that Cersei had pulled them into. The city is filthy and poor, and people are dirty and hungry. There is no love for the Lannisters here.**

By the time Tyrion time Tyrion found his brother, most of the fighting had already ended. This was probably the last fight still going on, and it wasn't much of a fight. Jaime was ragged looking, bleeding from a long cut on his forehead, blood running down his leg from his mid-thigh, one eye swollen nearly shut and blood running from his nose. His blond hair was caked with drying blood, and the look in his green eyes was one of desperation, almost madness. He was standing outside of a closer door, not even in any armor, and all around him were dead Kingsguard men, while Freedmen and members of the Golden Company toyed with Jaime. A sword swinging at him from one side, while another whacked him on the other with the flat of his blade. It was like watching a cat play with a mouse. Jaime had a sword in his left hand, blocking what he could, but there exhaustion clear on his face with every movement.

"Enough." Tyrion said, walking forward. The Freedmen and Golden Company men stopped and stepped back, though two remained close as if they expected the Kingslayer to lunge forward and attack Tyrion. But that was one think Tyrion was certain of: Jaime would not attack him. Even if he wasn't as exhausted and beaten as he was, he would not attack Tyrion. Instead, Jaime watched him wearily, as if he expected the dwarf to attack. This was not the Jaime Tyrion had left behind. This was a man who was sick of fighting, who knew he was defeated.

"Don't hurt Tommen." Jaime said, even his voice exhausted and desperate. "He's a good boy. He'll yield the throne over to whoever you want him to, and he'll do it willingly. He wants to be a knight, not a king."

Tyrion wondered if maybe Jaime was feverish. Jaime had wanted to be a knight when Tywin had thought that Jaime could've been a king. Sure, Tywin had never really pushed it, but he had mentioned it to Jaime once, and Jaime had said he wanted to be a knight, not a king.

"That didn't stop you from killing the Targaryen children." One of the Golden men said.

"I did not kill them." Jaime protested. "I had no part in killing the children."

"No, but you killed their father."

"Quiet." Tyrion snapped at the soldier, and turned back to Jaime. "Is Cersei hiding in there with Tommen?"

"No. Cersei is dead." Jaime shook his head. That was a surprise. Cersei dead?

"How did she die?"

Jaime looked around at the armed men nervously. "Don't hurt Tommen." He repeated.

"How did Cersei die?"

He looked back towards Tyrion. "She fell. Don't let them hurt Tommen."

"Daenerys is not fond of hurting children. She will not harm Tommen." Tyrion assured him. The relief was visible. He lowered his sword as if it weighed as much as a full grown horse. "Open the door."

Jaime did as he was told. Tyrion almost wished that his brother would protest or try to keep the others from entering, something to show that Jaime still had that spark of life in him. Tommen was sitting on his bed, looking frightened, as if he thought they were going to put a spear in him right at that moment. His round pink race had tear marks on It. He was only 6 when Tyrion had left, the same age he himself had been when Jaime had left Casterly Rock to become a knight of the Kingsguard.

"Don't let them-" Tommen started, but Jaime shushed him quietly. There was a gentleness in his voice as Tyrion's brother spoke to Tommen. A gentleness that Tyrion had never heard in Jaime's voice before.

"They aren't here to hurt you. You need to yield to the new Queen Deanerys."

"The battle is over? Did we win?" Tommen asked, looking from Jaime to Tyrion. That's when Tyrion realized that Tommen was afraid of him. He had always been fond of the round-faced little boy, who was tender hearted and gentle. But after being accused of killing Joffrey, it was no wonder the boy was afraid of him now.

"No, but living through it might count for something." Jaime said, limping heavily over to the bed. He helped Tommen off the bed and brought him towards the others. He still looked weary of the Golden men and the Freedmen, but he didn't let Tommen see it. Tyrion wondered if Jaime had told Tommen that he was his father.

"Don't hurt the boy." Tyrion ordered the men as they fell in around them. Jaime and Tommen were their prisoners after all. Jaime was moving slow and painfully, leaving a trail of blood behind him. One of the men behind him tried to push him forward a little in an attempt to make him walk faster, but Jaime stumbled and would have fallen had the Freedman beside him not caught him.

"Don't hurt Ser Jaime either." Tyrion scolded. "I'll be the one to deal with him later."

About half way down to the throne room where Daenerys would be, Tyrion realized there might not be a later. Jaime had slowed even more, was pale as a ghost and bleeding heavily from multiple injuries. His breathing even seemed shallow. Tommen was walking obediently beside him, pale with fear but otherwise unharmed. A few more steps, and Jaime's wounded leg gave out and he fell forward onto a knee.

"I'm okay…" He muttered, but Tyrion knew better. Jaime was bleeding out. He would die of blood loss if they didn't stop the bleeding.

"Stop." Tyrion ordered the men, and they all stopped. Tommen had bent down beside Jaime, looking at the blood pooling under his father.

"Why aren't you wearing armor?" Tyrion asked as he gestured for one of the Freedmen to come forward. He told him to rip off a part of Jaime's own shirt and tie it tight around his leg to slow the bleeding, at least until they could get him to the maester.

"I was sleeping." Jaime muttered. His eyes were half closed, and he was fighting to keep them open. "I had watch that night, I was sleeping when the attack started….protect my King….." And he passed out, body going limp as a ragdoll.

Tommen whimpered. "Help him, uncle." He begged Tyrion, sounding like the innocent little boy that Tyrion had left behind when he left Kings Landing.

"Carry him to a bed and make sure the maester see's to him quickly." Tyrion ordered the Freedman who had tied his leg. "Keep him alive." The Freedman nodded and put an arm under Jaime, lifting him as easily as if he were a child. Jaime had lost weight, Tyrion realized. A lot of it, but the looks of him. The Freedman left quickly, and Tyrion and the others moved on, Tommen still in the middle of them and looking frightened.

Daenerys was sitting on the Iron throne, deciding who she would forgive and who she wouldn't. Knights and gold cloaks were the main ones there, asking forgiveness.

"Your Grace, I bring you the boy king Tommen. I believe he has a few things to say." Tyrion said, and the soldiers surrounding Jaime's son moved away. Tommen looked even smaller, if possible. But he had his father's manners when he needed them, and he went to his knee.

"I yield, Queen Daenerys." Tommen said obediently. "I don't want to be king anymore."

Dany's face softened a bit as it did, as it always did with children. "Rise, Tommen Lannister. I thank you for yielding so easily. It saved many lives."

"Can you save Ser Jaime?" Tommen asked. "He's sick. And he's really hurt. I promise he'll be nice, he'll be a good knight and do his job really well."

Tyrion silently cursed. He had wanted to wait to tell Daenerys about finding Jaime later, when they were away from all the crowd.

"Where is Ser Jaime?" Daenerys asked.

"We had him brought to the maester." Tyrion said before any of the others could answer. "He yielded to us, and collapsed on the way to the Throne room. He's not a threat to anyone at the moment."

"I will see to him tonight." Dany turned towards Ser Barristan, who looked shocked to hear that Jaime had yielded. "Ser, take young Tommen to another room and explain what will be expected of him."

They had gone over what to do with Tommen before they had landed on shores. Dany was against killing children, and she had declared she would do everything she could to avoid killing the boy on the throne. She wanted to instead try to make him settle with knighthood or be a lord somewhere. Tyrion had told her that Tommen was innocent of his parents' crimes.

It was past dinner time when Tyrion and Dany made their way to the hall where the wounded have been taken. Thankfully, there were not many. Kings Landing had been unprepared and most the knights and soldiers had scattered at the sight of dragons. The common folk had stayed hidden in their homes, afraid of the strange army and the dragons. Those laying in the beds along the hall were the few Gold Cloaks who had fought, three of the remaining Kingsguard –Jaime included-, and a few of Dany's men. Overall, less than 100 men were wounded. For that, Tyrion was relieved. They found Jaime on the end, where it was damp and cold. Jaime was under a thin blanket, a bandage wrapped around the cut on his forehead. He was sweaty but shivering, pale and burning with fever. The maester had not put much care in cleaning the dried blood from his face.

Dany didn't look impressed. She had never seen the Kingslayer before, but she probably thought he would be bigger and more threatening looking. Or maybe she thought he would look more like Tyrion.

"He looks like your nephew." She said to Tyrion, referring to Tommen. Jaime's eyes opened, looking startled and lost. When his eyes landed on Tyrion, he seemed to remember where he was and he relaxed a little.

"Make it quick." His voice was hoarse.

"Make what quick?"

"You're here to kill me, aren't you?" Jaime glanced over at Daenerys and tilted his head, looking confused. "You look like Aerys. Aerys, Aerys, I tried. I really did, but he was lost." Jaime groaned and closed his eyes, shivering harder and pulling the blanket over his ears, exposing his feet. One was wrapped tightly, the bandage going all the way up his calf where he had been wounded earlier. The blanket was too small. "Let them burn. Burn them all, burn them all…" He groaned. "He kept saying it. Burn them all."

Jaime curled up tighter, his voice rising a little as if he were angry. "Burn them all, burn them all. I couldn't let him, no…"

"Jaime, look at me." Tyrion said loudly. His brother was definitely feverish and disoriented. It was a few minutes before he finally raised his eyes again and looked at Tyrion, but only for a minute before looked back to Dany. There were actual tears in Jaime's eyes, but he didn't let them fall. Lannisters don't cry.

"I didn't want to do it. I didn't, I didn't, I didn't…" He trailed off, eyes far away as he got lost in some other memory. The maester came up beside Tyrion then.

"My apologies my lord, he's been saying things like that for hours now. He sleeps and wakes up talking nonsense. I don't think he really knows where he is or what's going on." The maester said, before coaxing Jaime to drink milk of poppy. "I suspect he'll be gone by morning. The amount of blood he lost-"

"He won't be gone by morning." Dany interrupted sharply. "You will keep him alive as long as possible. I have questions for him."

"Y-yes, your Grace. Of course." The maester stammered, shocked at the tone in his Queen's voice. "But, your Grace, he's the Kingslayer-"

"Exactly why I need to question him. I have been told many things about Jaime Lannister. I would like to hear his side before I judge him."

"Very kind and wise choice, my Queen." The maester nodded, and hurried off to find a nicer bed in a warmer spot for him.

Tyrion looked at Jaime, who had fallen into a fitful sleep again. Would this be the end for him? Now that had seen Jaime again, and in the condition he was in, Tyrion could not justify wanting his brother dead without hearing his defense. Tyrion had gotten a trial for Joffrey's death, a crime he was innocent of and would've been killed for had Jaime not helped him escape. It was only fair to give Jaime the chance for a trial. Had Jaime been in shape still, with that cocky grin of his on his face, maybe it would've been different. But there was something haunting about Jaime now, something off. He needed to know what it was.

However, it seemed to take forever before Jaime was well enough to coherently answer questions. The maester had done all he could, but Jaime had struggled regardless. He had already been coming down with something before the battle started, apparently. Loss of blood, the amount of weight he had dropped, whatever chill he had picked up, and on top of it all, a wound from a poisoned blade. The poison would not kill him, but it left him in extreme pain. For most of the week, whenever Tyrion had gone in to try to talk to Jaime, his brother had been begging for milk of poppy, asking for someone to just cut his leg off in a fevered frenzy. That alone was enough to tell Tyrion how bad the pain must be, because Jaime Lannister did not complain of pain unless it was excruciating.

But finally, after two weeks, Tyrion went into the room where Jaime had been moved to, to find him brother sitting up in bed with a piece of bread in his hand. There was an empty plate and an empty wine glass beside him. This would mark the first full meal he had eaten and held down since Tyrion had returned to Westeros. He didn't even seem to notice Tyrion come in. No, Jaime's eyes were far away again, lost in thoughts or memories Tyrion couldn't tell.

"Jaime." He said, unsure of exactly what else he could say. He was never speechless, and yet as of recently, whenever it came to Jaime he was never sure what to say. He had dreamed of killing his brother at first, but then when he saw him in person he couldn't do it. Then he was hoping for Jaime to wake up and be himself again, but now that he seemed to be awake and functioning, he wasn't sure what to do with him.

Jaime looked up at the sound of his name. "Tyrion." He said, his voice still a bit hoarse from misuse.

"Do you remember what happened?" Tyrion asked. He wanted Jaime to take this seriously, though it was hard to tell what his brother's reactions would be to anything. Rumor said that Jaime had pushed Cersei from the walls on day, but no one would try to prove it. In fact, no one would dare even tell their new Queen or Tyrion. They would whisper amongst themselves. Kingslayer and Kinslayer.

"When?" Jaime asked. "I remember lots of things that happened."

"When Daenerys invaded Kings Landing. When I found you outside Tommen's door." Tyrion specified. Jaime thought for a minute.

"I do remember. I had been on the night guard for Tommen the night before. He had guards around him day and night, everywhere he went. I kept watch the night before, and soon after I went to sleep, I was being woken up again because someone claimed they saw dragons coming. When I looked outside, I didn't see dragons, but I saw an army running through the city towards the castle, and I went to protect Tommen. Almost everyone left. I had three other Kingsguard with me, but they were cut down by your army. You showed up, I brought everyone into Tommen's room, and I don't remember anything after that." He looked back at Tyrion, as if realizing he was actually there for the first time. There was a sad look on his face, as if he had been disappointed by something. "If you plan on killing me, at least make it quick. One hit by an axe or a sword, let my head roll."

"Why do you think I would kill you?"

"Because I lied about your wife all those years ago. Tysha." Jaime said. "And if you don't want to kill me, then there are more than enough crimes I've committed to seal my fate. I'm sure your Queen doesn't want her father's killer to continue living."

"She actually wants to hold a trial for you." Tyrion said. "But wants the truthful answers. She wants to know your reasoning behind killing Aerys, you attacking Ned Stark in the city, committing treason against Robert with the Queen, going against all your vows-"

"Vows, vows, have you ever looked at the vows I've had to take?" Jaime's voice started to get that liveliness to it, that growl in it that he used to get when he was frustrated. It was like music to Tyrion's ears almost.

"No-"

"I'll give you a summary, and you tell me how it's possible to keep them all." Jaime put the rest of the bread on the table and took a breath. "Protect the king even if it costs you your life, defend the city, defend the weak, protect the innocent, take no wife, no children, no lands, keep the peace, protect the Faith, but on top of all that, being a son of a noble family I must obey my father, protect the family name, keep the family honor, and being the oldest son, I was for a time expected to have an heir to the house. How can I keep my vows as a knight and the duties of being the oldest son of a Lannister? How do I keep my vows to the king when the king orders me to do things that would break my vows?"

"It's not. But you need to explain it all to the Queen, not to me." Tyrion made his way closer to Jaime's bed. The cuts he had received in the small battle were scarring over already.

"Is Tommen still unharmed?" Jaime asked.

"Tommen is fine. He's being treated more as a guest of honor than a prisoner. He can keep his chambers for now, until Daenerys decides what to do with him. She's a fair Queen though, and she won't punish him for believing he was king. Have you told him who you are yet?" Tyrion asked. Jaime nodded.

"He knows. Cersei told him while I was away."

"What happened to Cersei?"

"She fell."

"I heard you pushed her." Tyrion was watching his brother's behavior closely. He didn't miss when Jaime winced, however slight it was. He didn't miss the flash of guilt across his face. "Why did you push her?" He didn't need to ask if it were true. He could tell it was.

"She was so far gone…" Jaime shook his head. "She was going mad. She wasn't the same. Everywhere she looked, she saw enemies. She would ask me to kill them for her. She never wanted Tommen out of her reach, she never wanted anyone to be close enough to touch him. Every meal had to be tested before she would let him or herself eat. All the common folk hated her and wanted her dead. She was going to let the city starve so they would be too weak to raise a rebellion." Jaime took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. "She was going to burn the city to the ground and move the throne to Casterly Rock." He looked at Tyrion hopelessly. "Why does everyone who sits on that throne want people to burn?"

"She was going mad long before I left." Tyrion stated, ignoring Jaime's question.

"I know she was." Jaime sighed. "I just didn't want to accept it. Now I'm a Kingslayer and a kinslayer. At this rate, I'll be joining our father in the worst of the seven hells sooner than I originally planned."

"And what did you plan?"

"Fighting on some battle field, taken down by a man worth fighting." Jaime sighed and leaned back on the pillows. "Once or twice I had a dream –or a nightmare, whichever you think- that Ned Stark came back from the grave and beheaded me, the way he had wanted too when he found me standing over Aerys' body."

"Stark won't behead you, but I'm sure if it comes down to needing you beheaded we'd have a whole list of volunteers." Tyrion stated.

"I'm sure you're right, but if it comes to that I'd prefer just one big volunteer who can at least kill me in one blow. I think I at least deserve a quick a death, seeing as I've done _some_ good."

"Do you feel well enough to speak with Daenerys today, so we can get this trial underway?"

"Tonight would be better. I'd rather not smell like a rotting corpse throughout the trial."

"I'm sure everyone can agree on that. You smell horrendous." Tyrion agreed. "Very well, I'll let her know that you'll be ready tonight and have someone come get you when it's time."

 **This is turning out to be longer than I planned. Please excuse all spelling/grammar mistakes. I've been over it twice, but that doesn't mean that I missed something.**

 **Again, I'm not the author of these books, so the characters may seem out of character. This story takes place whenever it is that Dany invades Westeros, which I do believe she's still going to do eventually. And if not…well, this is a fanfiction so I can make whatever I want happen.**


	3. Chapter 3: Jaime

**Ceies- I googled it, they're about 8-9years apart. =)**

 **So this is going to be longer than I expected it would be, so I'm going to switch the Point of Views up a little bit. Reviews would be great though. Suggestions, comments, anything you feel like saying. Just a conversation even.**

Jaime

Jaime was having a satisfying piss when the guards came in later that evening to bring him to the new Queen. They waited until he was done, thankfully, but their glares bore into him. He had enough sense to not wear his whites or family colors or any armor for that matter, and was instead in a plain but well-made tunic and breeches. His leg was freshly wrapped and his hair was washed and golden again, the dried blood scrubbed off his body. Before they left the room, he pulled his fake hand on, sloppily tying it on with his left hand. He refused to ask for help from these strange men, men from across the sea. Finally they lost their patience and jabbed him forward with a spear, and Jaime had to bite his tongue to keep from cursing them. This was not the time to start making enemies of the Queen's men. If he wanted to live, he would have to behave. But did he really want to live?

He limped along in front of them, entertaining the thoughts of running but knowing he would never get far. Even if he wasn't recovering from a nasty spear wound in his calf, he would never be able to get out of the palace or the Red Keep without one of the Queen's men catching him, or worst, one of her dragons. He hadn't seen them, but the servants who came through every morning and evening to change the chamber pots and the sheets had spoken about the dragons, and there was no way that they were describing fake creatures or a sigil. Dragons had returned, and that was one creature Jaime had no wish to face. Thinking of dragons made his mind wander over to the Hound's old horse, Stranger. That horse was a vicious beast to everyone but his owner. Jaime remembered once commenting on the horse being a dragon, to which the Hound had responded that if his horse started breathing fire, he would put the axe through its head himself. That seemed so long ago, and was the last time that Jaime had seen the Hound. He wondered vaguely what had become of Joffrey's old guard. When someone told him he had gone rogue, Jaime hadn't been surprised. Joffrey had been a monster of different kind, brutal and cowardly at the same time. The wyldfire on the Blackwater had surely pushed the Hound over the edge. It was when the rumors of the Hound burning villages came through that Jaime began to doubt. Fire was the one weapon that Sandor Clegane would never use.

His thoughts snapped back as they made their way into the Throne room where a steward announced his arrival.

"Ser Jaime Lannister, Kingslayer and Lord Commander of the Kings Guard under the rules of King Joffrey and King Tommen with Queen Reagent Cersei Lannister. Served under King Aerys, King Robert, King Joffrey, and King Tommen." The steward called out.

There were several people in the room, Tyrion being one, as well as Ser Selmy Barristan and the other remaining Kingsguard, and many strange people who Jaime didn't know by name, but knew they came from over the Narrow Sea by the way they styled their hair. And of course upon the Iron Throne sat the Queen Daenerys. She looked like Aerys in a way, Jaime thought. Though perhaps more like Rheagar? It was hard to place. With his court manners in mind, he went to a knee and kept his head bowed. Even if he was to be beheaded, he would do so with as much honor and dignity as he could.

"Rise." The Queen said. He struggled back up to his feet, not quite able to hide the fact that he was in pain. "Do you know what you're accused of?"

"A better question would be what _aren't_ I accused of?" Jaime asked. That was probably not the best way to respond, but it came out before he had a chance to think about how to answer.

They ignored his sarcasm. "You're accused of slaying King Aerys, breaking your vows as a knight of the Kingsguard, treachery against King Robert the Usurper, fathering the false kings Joffrey and Tommen, attacking Lord Eddard Stark while he was Hand of the King, pushing Brandon Stark from the window of a tower, and slaying the Queen Regent Cersei Lannister who was also your sister. Do you deny any of these crimes?" Daenerys asked.

"No, your Grace." Jaime shook his head. There was no point in hiding the truth anymore. Tell them the truth and maybe the rumors would quiet down.

"Do you have any defense for your actions?"

"Yes, your Grace."

"Explain then."

Jaime took a deep breath. He hated talking about what happened with Aerys. It had haunted him from day one. But it was time to confess to his reasoning. "During Robert's Rebellion, I had tried to get Rheagar to let me go with him to fight. Instead, I was told to stay here and guard the King. A knight is supposed to stand guard and hear nothing, but do any knights ever just hear nothing? Tywin Lannister was at the gates. I was not on the council, so I was not allowed to speak up, but I knew that my father would not pick the side he thought was losing. Everyone urged the Mad King to keep the gates closed, by Maester Pycelle told him otherwise and the gates were opened. When Tywin's men started to sack the city, the King knew he was lost. He told me to go bring him my father's head. He called for his pyromancer. 'Burn them all', he said. He kept saying it, kept repeating it, over and over again." Jaime clenched and unclenched his fist. He heard Aerys saying that in his nightmares on some nights, only sometimes it was Cersei saying it. He forced himself to continue. "Aerys had wyldfire under the castle, under the entire city. His end game was to blow the city to pieces, along with everyone in it, himself included. He thought he would be reborn from the ashes as a dragon. When I realized that was his plan, what was I supposed to do? My vows say to protect the weak and the innocent, women and children. Was I supposed to let King Aerys blow them all to pieces, kill _thousands_ of innocent people, just because my other vows said to protect and obey the king? I killed the pyromancer before he could run off to give the order the light the fire. Then I killed the king."

Jaime looked over at the people standing there. The only one who he could see that had served in the Kingsguard with him at the time was Ser Barristan. "Ser Barristan was not in the room when it happened, but he saw what the king was." He looked over and spotted Varys. When did that eunuch get back? "Varys too, was serving at that time. I'm sure he knew the King's plan for the city, but didn't bother to tell anyone."

"I knew he had a plan, but my little birds hadn't told me what the plan was until after you killed him." Varys piped up. "But your Grace, I believe that is the truth of the events. I've gotten similar accounts from my little birds."

"But never bothered to mention them earlier?" Jaime glared at Varys.

"You didn't ask, nor did you seem too bothered by the name of Kingslayer." Varys stated matter-of-factly.

"I knew of King Aerys' madness. I did not know he would go so far." Daenerys admitted. "But that is not your only crime. Do you have reasons and excuses for the other ones? You bedded the Queen while she was married to another, and gave her three children while the Usurper had none with her. Why?"

"Robert had no interest in Cersei unless he was drunk, and then he was too rough with her. I didn't exactly plan for my seed to take root in her, but it happened anyway and she went through with it. She said if she didn't, then she would have to bed Robert more." Jaime shrugged. "I loved my sister."

"Yet you're accused of pushing her off a wall?"

Jaime clenched and unclenched his fist again. It was becoming a habit of his, he noticed. This was a question he knew he would be asked, but he wasn't exactly prepared with an answer. He wasn't entirely sure what exactly that happened that morning when she had fallen. Or had he pushed her? It was all such a jumble and so chaotic that he wasn't sure. He had told Tyrion that yes, he pushed her off the wall because she was crazy. But that wasn't the whole truth. He wasn't ready to decide what the truth was or what his mind had decided had happened.

"I may have done that as well." He said simply.

"Why?"

"I was not in the right mind. I think my wine may have been drugged. I only remember walking with her and the next moment she was falling and I was standing over where she had fallen from, looking down at her broken, bloody body." Jaime explained. The image of her body lying on the hard stone below the wall haunted him every night since. His fever dreams had been even worst. Her dead body would reanimate, asking him why, urging him to join her, taunting him and mocking him.

"Who would've poisoned your wine with something that wouldn't kill you?"

"I don't know. It left me sick to my stomach though." That was only half a lie. He had a suspicion on who would've put the poison in there, but it had definitely made him sick to his stomach. That on top of the grief of losing his beloved sister, it had been a long, miserable day full of questions, vomiting, diarrhea and lightheadedness. He was still trying to make sense of everything that had happened, but it was hard to. "I do know that there is no love for Lannisters in this city anymore. Anyone who held a grudge against the King or Cersei may have wanted me out of the way for a day or two to get closer to hurting Tommen."

"And what of your crimes against the Starks?" Daenerys asked, looking at him with eyes so similar to the ones of the family he betrayed so long ago, of her ancestors.

"When I attacked Ned, it was because his wife had taken Tyrion. A Lannister pays his debts. A lord for a lord." Jaime shrugged. "Besides, I didn't kill him. While we were not on friendly terms, Eddard Stark deserved to die with a sword in his hand on the battle field, not on his knees without a weapon. As for his son…I was stupid and my lust clouded my judgement. It would have been much easier to just scare the boy into silence, but I shoved him from the window with the intentions for him to die. I won't deny that it was a selfish move and unnecessary." Jaime was almost surprised at how good it felt to get that part about Brandon Stark off his chest. He did feel guilty about it, but he had always pushed the guilt down by telling himself that if Robert had learned that Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen weren't really his that they would have been killed on the spot, probably along with Jaime and Cersei.

Daenerys considered him for a few minutes. Jaime stood quietly, waiting for judgement. In a strange way, it was a relief to finally be charged and put on trial for his crimes. He had denied it for so long, pushed it down and back, but he had always found it unfair that he could get away with so many crimes, all the pointless murders and savage attacks while his brother was accused of a crime he didn't commit, and tons of other lords and ladies were all punished for pettier crimes. Now he would get his share of justice.

"I would like some time to think on your confessions and reasons, and then decide on your punishment. Until then, you will stay in your current room under my maester's care. You are not to leave that room unless summoned by me and accompanied by my guards." She declared. Jaime nodded, and let the strange men lead him out of the room and back to the bed he had spent the past week in.

By the time he was back in his room, his leg had started throbbing like crazy and he gladly accepted the milk of poppy that that offered to him. It never failed to put him to sleep quickly. He would have enjoyed a night without dreams, but that was asking a lot. So of course, he had a dream about the night Cersei had fallen from the wall. Or had he pushed her?

 _Jaime was watching himself and Cersei walk along the wall that surrounded the Red Keep. It was about an hour before sunset. Most people had already gone inside, chased away by the thunder storm. But the thunder was gone now, and Cersei had insisted that Jaime join her for a walk along the wall. He had wanted to stay inside. He should have insisted. It had been a long day, he knew, he had been up before dawn, accompanying Tommen and Cersei to council meetings, helping train Tommen with swords. Cersei had figured that since Jaime didn't have his right hand anymore, it would be a fair match for Tommen. Jaime had protested and argued, but in the end he was still just a knight sworn to protect and obey the king. No one else would be around however, and it was done away from where spying eyes could see them. Jaime hadn't done too badly, he knew, he had knocked Tommen to the ground twice and disarmed him three times. He was getting better at fighting with his left hand. He had been practicing often._

 _After training with Tommen, the boy decided he wanted to go out for a ride in the Kingswood, and Jaime and five other of the Kingsguard had gone with him. It had been enjoyable, to get to ride without the risk of running into a massive army. The war had ended. There was no chance of running into enemies, and they had been able to gallop through the woods and startle birds from their nests._

 _Overall, it had been a tiring day. Jaime had wanted nothing more than to have a warm dinner and go to bed. Cersei had wine with her when he had gone to go see her. Things had gotten a little smoother between them now that the war had ended. Jaime had hoped to find her alone in the chambers to make a little love before dinner. He felt like it had been forever since he last had her. But she hadn't wanted to stay there for a quiet, peaceful pleasure. He had wanted to make love and lay beside her for a brief before-dinner nap. They had done that a few times, a long time ago, before he had been knighted and she had been crowned, oftentimes in the little cave he had found on Casterly Rock when he was little. The first time they had ever made love had been in that cave, on the soft white sand with the sound of the waves disguising their sounds of pleasure. Jaime longed for that peace again sometimes, that simplicity of everything. He should have known better. Cersei had only grown feistier as they got older, and she said she wanted to go outside and he had listened. Stupid, Jaime wanted to tell his dream-self, you should insist on staying inside. Cersei had summoned a maid to pour their wine for them as they walked. This handmaid had gotten her tongue cut out before coming to Kings landing. She would never be able to tell the others what she saw._

 _Jaime had drank, Cersei had drank, and maybe they drank too much. Jaime could remember the foggy feeling in his head, the roaring in his ears and the odd feeling in his stomach. This was not what being drunk felt like, he knew that. This was not the escape that being drunk brought. Yet he did not seem to completely register that. Cersei was worse, stumbling along beside him, hiccupping and giggling. She was never like that when she was drunk. Yet the dream-Jaime didn't seemed to notice this. Instead, he turned and pinned her against the nearest Merlon and kissed her roughly, his left hand tugging at the laces of her gown. She had responded just as eagerly, pulling the laces of his breeches until they were open and she pulled them down and grabbed him, teasing him with his fingers until he finally managed to get the gown off her. He impaled himself on her as fast as he could, and they made love furiously in the rain, soaking wet with their hair dripping rain water into their eyes. Cersei had come first, and Jaime only seconds behind her. But he didn't stop. He was spent, but he continued to pump and she turned them around so Jaime was against the Merlon instead. All the while, the handmaid stood and stared at the ground. Jaime turned them back over, pinning Cersei to the wall, and after a few minutes she turned them over again. They did this a few times, moving further along the wall until Jaime turned her over again. By this time, he had slid out of her but hadn't stopped kissing her. But when he moved away from the stone of the Merlon, he found there was none there to catch her._

 _His mind tried to register what was happening as she fell, silent. She didn't scream, only looked at him with a confused expression on her face. He hadn't shouted either, not even as he grabbed frantically for her. He wasn't sure what he was seeing. Instead, he took another glass of wine, pulled his soaked breeches back on, and grabbed her gown before heading down to where her broken body lay. A pool of blood was around her head. Wordlessly, Jaime made her handmaid help him dress her. Surely she would wake up soon? She wouldn't want to wake up laying naked in the yard. He turned around then, pissed on the wall, and walked away, heading back to the white tower with another glass of wine in his hand. Less than an hour after he finished that glass, his stomach seemed to explode. He had hardly made it to the privy and sat down before his bowels burst. He vomited, and it even came out of his nose. By then, the memory of Cersei falling from the wall had come flooding back, and a few minutes later, a squire ran up to announce that the queen regent was dead and Jaime was needed at the council. Instead, after seeing the one-handed knight in the condition he was in, the squire had run off to get the maester. Jaime wanted to tell the boy to come back, wanted to tell himself to make sure the boy knew that the handmaid who had accompanied them on the wall was likely guilty._

 _Instead, Jaime had spent the night sicker to his stomach than he had ever been, in so much pain that not even dream wine could put him to sleep. His throat had gone raw, his nose was burning, his arse was burning, his forehead, his eyes, everything was burning. Burning, burning, burn them all, burn them all…_

 _Aerys was suddenly there, laughing at Jaime. Jaime was no longer seated on the privy suffering with the worst intestinal woe he had ever had to go through, but was instead back in the throne room with his younger self and King Aerys. "Burn them all!" Aerys had ordered, but this time younger Jaime did nothing. He simply nodded, and burst into flames. Then everyone Jaime had cared about was in the room. His mother, his father, his sister, brother, close cousins and aunts and uncles, Brienne of Tarth, the younger Crakehall he had squired under, Joffrey and Tommen and Myrcella. He watched as each one burst into flames, and he heard their screams before he burst into flames himself._

Jaime jerked upright, gasping and in a cold sweat. It was around dawn, if the lighting from the window was enough to tell by. Jaime's leg was throbbing, his bladder burning, and his mind racing. He quickly pushed the chamber pot out from under the bed with his foot and relieved himself before his bladder would burst. Normally he would wake up once in the night to go, but had slept through the night this night, unfortunately. The nightmare left goose prickles up and down his arms and legs and he found that his hand was shaking. Was the first half of the nightmare true? Had he been drugged when he gone out to the wall with Cersei. Had that handmaid drugged him? He hadn't seen her since Cersei's funeral, and he had stood vigil over her body for three days and two nights before absolute exhaustion had taken over and he had found himself waking up on the floor with a pounding headache. Even after she had been buried on Casterly Rock, he had looked for the handmaid and never found her.

Jaime laced his breeches back up after filling the chamber pot and scooted the rest of the way off the bed, nearly falling when he tried to put weight on his leg. It was still asleep. He limped around for a few minutes, keeping a hand on the wall for support, until his leg adjusted enough for him to walk without falling. He made his way to the window and looked out over the sunrise, once again lost in thought. He was sinner, the worst of the worst to most people, and yet he still lived. His sister was mad with love, yes, love for her children, yet she was gone and dead. He should've fallen off with her, but his stupid fogged mind didn't let him follow her. And now, he was afraid to know what awaited him after death. Jaime Lannister, who had never feared death before, was afraid to face whatever punishments awaited him in hell. He should have been killed long ago, after killing Aerys. But he lived, committed more crimes and acts of treason, and still he lived. But why? He was only half of a whole without his twin. His eyes stung, and when he raised his hand to wipe at them, he was surprised to find tears running down his face. He wiped them away as hard as he could, angry with himself. Lannisters do not cry.

 **There ya go, the real cause of Cersei's death. See how the rumor could start that he pushed her? A few people would've clearly realized that Jaime was walking with her along the wall. Maybe they saw him walk away from her body. But he was very drugged, with something similar to what Tyrion gave Cersei in one of the books back when he was still Hand of the King.**


	4. Chapter 4: Tyrion-Jaime

**Some people just get so desperate to flame stories, that it makes it more amusing than anything else. It's fanfiction. I can make whatever I want happen in this story. If I want Jaime to suddenly have a love affair with one of Dany's Queensguard, I could. That won't happen, but I could make it happen if I wanted to.**

Tyrion

It was around midday when Tyrion went to retrieve Jaime to bring him back to Daenerys for judgement. When he entered the room, he found Jaime slumped over in bed, fast asleep. On his lap was a book. A jar of ink was laying on the bed beside him, dripping ink onto the floor and a feather quill was still resting in Jaime's hand. A candle burned softly on a small night table beside him.

"Apologies, my lord. I wasn't aware you were coming. I would've woken him earlier." The maester spoke up from the window. "He was awake by dawn, and requested I bring him the White Book. I didn't see any harm in it, so I fetched it for him and he wrote in it for quite a while before falling asleep again."

"Do you know what he wrote?" Tyrion asked, making his way over to the sleeping form of his brother.

"No. I didn't want to disturb him. He needs his rest, my lord. He should not have walked so far yesterday after spending so many days in bed." The maester went over and picked up the ink jar, placing it carefully on the table beside the candle. Jaime didn't even seem to notice. He was snoring very softly, barely audible. Tyrion looked at his brothers. Years ago, when they were boys on Casterly Rock, Jaime had always had a softer, innocent expression on his face as he slept. Now, his expression was a haunted one. His brother was not the same boy who left Casterly Rock as a squire all those years ago. This was not the same man who had freed Tyrion from his cell so long ago. Whatever had happened between then and now, it turned his brother into a shell of his former self.

"I'll wake him. Leave us." Tyrion said. The maester looked like he wanted to protest, but he held his tongue and left the room. Tyrion grabbed the book, having to reach a little, but managing to get it without waking Jaime. It appeared that his big brother had been filling in his own pages in the book. Curiosity made Tyrion skim through, with the plan to read the rest of it later. The beginning had clearly been written by someone else. Later on, the writing on the pages became sloppier, less careful. Clearly, that was when Jaime had started writing in it, and with his left hand. It got neater a little further on, though not much. Jaime stirred, and Tyrion closed the book, putting it on the table.

"Jaime." He said, and Jaime made a small noise in protest at the prospect of being woken up. At least that remained the same. Jaime Lannister did not like to be woken up, least of all for formal reasons. "Wake up, you lazy shit. The Queen wont wait forever, and I have better things to do than stand here and watch you sleep." Tyrion said irritably, pushing at Jaime's arm. He couldn't quite reach his shoulder.

"Fuck off." Jaime muttered, leaning back further and turning his back towards Tyrion. Tyrion looked around for something to use to wake his brother up, but saw nothing but a fire poker. The poker wasn't hot, and the fire seemed to have gone out a while ago. Tyrion waddled across the room, grabbed the poker, and made his way back over to Jaime, poking him in the back just enough to be annoying, but not enough to actually hurt him.

"Get up. Queen Daenerys has decided what to do with you, and it's best to not keep her waiting."

That seemed to get Jaime's attention. He had been a Kingsguard long enough to know better than to keep royalty waiting.

"What time is it?" He asked, voice groggy with sleep. He rubbed at his eyes with his hand, blinking a few times at Tyrion until his eyes adjusted.

"A little past midday." Tyrion told him. "Now get dressed and make yourself presentable. You're lucky that I was able to come get you, because her Queensguard would've been much rougher and rather rude."

Jaime yawned and swung his legs over the side of his bed. His wounded leg was freshly wrapped. He pushed himself off the bed and put a hand on the night table to support his weight until he was finally able to stand on his own. "Lets just get this over with." He said, taking a few slow steps towards a chest at the end of the bed. Inside were clothes. Most were the reds and golds of the Lannisters, but Jaime pulled out another plain tunic and breeches, tossing them carelessly onto the bed. They were nicely made, but clearly been worn several times. Tyrion watched as his brother undressed, struggling a bit with one hand. His back was laced with scars that hadn't been there when Tyrion had last seen his brother, and he knew what would have made that type of wound.

"Who whipped you?" He asked, taking in the severity of the scars. They were all healed now, but you could see where a few had festered before being cared for properly. He saw Jaime's fist clench and unclench.

"Lady Stoneheart." He said finally.

"Lady Stoneheart? When was this? Who is she? Why-"

"Shush, Tyrion." Jaime snapped, glaring at his brother. There was something in those green eyes that Tyrion had rarely ever seen there: fear. Whoever this Lady Stoneheart and whatever had happened with her, it scared Jaime. "I don't want to talk about it. Not now."

Tyrion nodded and remained silent while Jaime finished dressing. He paid attention however, seeing what movements caused enough pain for it to be visible on Jaime's face, seeing what other scars did not appear to be caused by swordplay or falls from horses. There were more than he had realized he would see on him. What in seven hells had happened after he had left Kings Landing?

After Jaime was dressed, they headed down the hall. It was easier to keep pace with Jaime while he was limping, Tyrion found. His stunted legs were too short to keep up with long strides easily, and Jaime's leg was still too sore to take long regular strides.

"Is she going to have me killed?" Jaime asked after a few minutes of silence. There was no emotion to the question. He could tell that Jaime fully expected to be put to death for his crimes.

"I don't know."

"Aren't you part of her council?"

"I am, but she does not tell us exactly what her plans are all the time. We advise her, and then she will make her decision. Sometimes, she'll tell us. Other times, she wont. I told her that had you not killed the Mad King, thousands of innocent lives would have been killed. That if you had not freed me from my cell, I would have been killed. I told her what I had heard from Tommen of how you took Riverrun within a night without raising a sword, of how you got knighted, and the rare moments in our childhood when you would speak out against our father's harsh punishments or unfair rulings. She took them into consideration, but what she does with any of that, I don't know."

"I tried to treat with the Blackfish at Riverrun. He mocked me and laughed, and closed his gates. I had to threaten Catelyn Stark's brother by telling him if he didn't convince the Blackfish to turn over the city, I would toss him and his pregnant wife over the walls of the city to their deaths. Then I left him with a bard singing the Rains of Castamere and gave him the night to decide." Jaime explained. "I swore to Catelyn that I would never take up arms against Tully or Stark again."

"And did you go through with it?" Tyrion asked, though he also wondered why Jaime would've sworn that in the first place.

"Almost." Jaime said. "I'd rather not talk about it." His fist was clenching and unclenching again. Now when did he pick up that habit?

"Does it have to do with this Lady Stoneheart?"

"I said I don't want to talk about it." Jaime growled, and Tyrion dropped the subject. There was that tone of voice that Jaime normally saved for people who got on his nerves. He would ask around about Lady Stoneheart, then go back to bother his brother about it. He wanted to know what this was all about.

They finally entered the throne room where Daenarys was seated on the iron throne. Tyrion noticed Jaime frown at the sight, as if he expected something different. Tyrion went up and took his place with the council, while Jaime stayed below the throne and gave a stiff bow. His leg must still be stiff.

"Rise." Dany told him, and his big brother stood up as straight as his aching body could. There was still that small spark of pride to Jaime that Tyrion had to admire. Whatever happened today, it would surely shame Jaime, one way or another. "I have spoken to my council, and heard their opinions on what to do with you. I've talked to some of the servants who work here, and the members of Tommen's Kingsguard about what they think of you. And I've made my decision."

She paused, as if waiting for a reaction.

"Whatever punishment you have, I'm sure no one will protest." Jaime stated bluntly. Well, at least he wasn't blind and knew how many people hated him. Tyrion knew far too many people who were too oblivious to notice how many people hated them.

"The crimes you've committed have continuously been ignored. By law, you should have been put to death the day you killed King Aerys. By sleeping with the queen and fathering two false kings with her and one false princess, you should be gelded at the very least. By attempting to murder a child while being a guest in his father's home, you should have been killed. Yet you have done some good. There are a few here who claim losing your hand humbled you, and caused you to attempt to set your wrongs to right. So I'm going to let you continue to live." Dany said. "However, I will not let you go unpunished any longer. I strip you of your knighthood. You will never serve as a knight to the Seven Kingdoms again. A sell sword maybe, if anyone is willing to hire a one-handed man. You have no right to rise as Lord of Casterly Rock either. When my maester says you are recovered enough to go, you will be escorted out of Kings Landing with whatever belongings you can carry. From there, what you do is up to you. Drink yourself to death, travel the realm, join the Nights Watch, whatever pleases you. But you will not be permitted to return to Kings Landing. If I get word that you have stirred up trouble, my dragons and I will personally come and kill you. Am I understood?"

"Yes, your grace." Jaime's voice and face was emotionless, but Tyrion didn't need to see him to know what the punishment meant to Jaime. Jaime had dreamed of being a knight since he was a little boy. He had always prided himself in his knighthood, never asking for any more power than what he had, never asking for land or lordship. A horse, a sword, and a helm, and Jaime was happy. Being stripped of his knighthood would be like losing a part of himself.

"What of Tommen?" He asked. "What will you do with him?"

"He is to be fostered here until I decide otherwise. No harm will come to him."

Jaime looked thoughtful. "He wants to be knight. I believe he would make a better knight than I ever was."

"It will be considered. You're dismissed."

Jaime turned to leave as some of Dany's Queensguard moved to escort him back to his chambers, but then he paused. "May I make a request?"

"You're not in much of a position to."

Jaime turned and looked back at her. There was an odd look on his face. "Destroy that throne. Melt it, give it as a chew toy to your dragons, sell it across the Narrow Sea, something. Have someone make a more pleasant throne for you. That one…." Jaime shook his head. "That chair has brought nothing but pain and war to the kingdoms for years."

Dany looked a bit amused. "I will consider it."

Jaime nodded, and left with the guards around him. Tyrion watched him limp away, unable to help noticing that the limp was a little slower going back than it had been coming in.

Jaime

" _I strip you of your knighthood."_

Those words kept echoing in his head, long after he left the throne room. Sure, he had known the chances of remaining a knight after everything he had done was small, but he had thought for sure that he would be killed before being stripped of his knighthood. He couldn't even say a Kingsguard can't be dismissed. Ser Barristan was a Kingsguard who was dismissed by Joffrey. It hurt, honestly. Jaime had wanted to be knight since he was a little boy, as far back as he could remember. Then he had become a knight, he had been so proud of himself, but everything got screwed up when he had gone and killed Aerys. But what was he supposed to have done?! If only it had been someone other than Ned Stark who had found him that day. Maybe he would've been able to explain it. He would've been considered a hero instead of an oath-breaking king slayer. Once back in his chambers, Jaime had settled back into his bed and taken the White Book back into his lap, dipping the quill in the ink and scratching away at the pages as he filled in his pages. He wrote about his taking Riverrun without raising the sword, of Brienne bringing him to "The Hound", of meeting the creature that was called Lady Stoneheart. He left out the details of what she had done to him, putting only that she had tortured him for several days before Brienne had somehow managed to get him out. He wrote of returning to Kings Landing, naming a few knew Kingsguard to replace those that were killed, and all else that was worth mentioning between then and now. And in the last few lines, he wrote his sins. Fathering Tommen and Joffrey and Myrcella, releasing Tyrion despite him being accused of regicide, of his pushing Brandon Stark from the window of the tower, of the day that Cersei had died, of every damn thing he had ever done that went against his vows, and finally how he had been dismissed from the Kingsguard and stripped of his knighthood in punishment for his crimes. It took him a moment to realize his eyes were stinging.

Jaime Lannister does not cry. Yet he could feel that sting that said his eyes were watering, but he refused to let the tears fall. He had screwed up. He had ruined every chance of ever being a worthy of knighthood. He had lost almost everything these past few years. His sister, his father, his children, his brother, his knighthood, his home, everything. Maybe Tommen and Tyrion were still alive, but he would likely never see them again once he left Kings Landing.

A servant walked in to bring him his midday meal.

"Wine. Get me wine, a lot of it." Jaime growled. The serving girl nodded and left the room quickly, returning a short time later with a pitcher of wine. It took less than an hour for Jaime to finish it and pass out, a desperate attempt to forget for a while. But instead, his night was filled with nightmares and memories. Memories of Lady Stoneheart, of Aerys, of Cersei. He tossed and turned and probably cried out in his sleep. He was haunted by them as much in his sleep as he was when awake.

Tyrion

When he went back into Jaime's room, he found his brother asleep once again, his face twisted in a nightmare. The sheets were tangled, and Jaime's hair was a mess, but Tyrion didn't wake him. He could smell the wine on his brother. Jaime was not one to drink so much so quickly, and if the servant were to be believed, then it had been only just over an hour ago that he was brought the wine. But then, Tyrion had known that Jaime would not respond well to losing his knighthood. If he wanted to get drunk and try to forget it all, who was Tyrion to try to stop him? The dwarf looked over and spotted the White Book. It was closed now, and the ink was on the nightstand. He took the book and flipped to Jaime's pages, and saw that his brother had been busy, but it appeared he had finished his entry. So Tyrion took it with him and left his brother to face his demons alone.

 **I've read a few theories on what Lady Stoneheart plans on doing to Jaime, most of which seem to be to hang him, but I feel like she just has so much anger and hatred built up, that all it would take is one person to suggest hanging is too quick of a death, and as a result of that, she decides to torture him. Yes, I know it isn't like Catelyn Stark to torture anyone, but Lady Stoneheart is not exactly Catelyn.**


	5. Chapter 5: Tyrion-Jaime-Tyrion

**QueenQuentynBall- no, Jaime will not have Casterly Rock. After all the things he's done, it would be an unwise move for Dany to let him rise to power like that. Tyrion would technically be next in line, but he won't take it either.**

Tyrion

The next few days were slow in passing. Tyrion read Jaime's pages in the White Book, watching how the words changed from the short, crisp words of whoever had written in Jaime's beginning (Crakehall? He didn't really care to find out), to the slightly more detailed words that Jaime had written. It seemed as though his brother was using the book to confess to his crimes rather than to record his 'valiant feats' as most Kingsguard would do. But then, Jaime always did have that strange sense of honor. Perhaps he wanted to write it himself so no one could say he tried to hide it. _He did hide it._ Tyrion thought, _Not the action, but the reasons behind them. And he still wont write it in._

Many times now Tyrion had tried to talk to Jaime about what had happened since he left and tried to get the whole story about Lady Stoneheart and whatever the truth about Cersei was. More often than not though, Jaime was in his cups. He had never been a very big drinker, not even in his younger days. He would drink with everyone else, yes, but never too much and never too fast. Now, he was drunk more than sober, and spent more days hungover than Tyrion had while he was at sea. He tried to stop his brother from doing it to himself, but the servants and the maester were afraid to tell Jaime now. Turns out he was a rather violent drunk, and a lighter weight that Tyrion would've expected.

As he was walking to Jaime's room to once again try to get him to talk, he spotted the servant carrying the flagon of wine.

"No. No more." Tyrion said, stopping her. "Next time he asks for wine, ignore it. I'll deal with him, just don't give him any more." The servant nodded, looking relieved, and hurried the opposite way. Tyrion entered the room, and found Jaime pacing the room, his uneven gait made more noticeable due to the wine.

"Seven hells, Jaime, it's not even midday! How much have you drank?" Tyrion looked around the room, which was a great deal messier than it had been when he first found Jaime here after the battle.

"Not enough to pass out yet, sadly." Jaime stated, turning and looking at Tyrion. His eyes were bloodshot from a mixture of alcohol and lack of sleep.

"You can't just drink your problems away-"

"That didn't stop you from trying to."

"That was different."

"How? You were on a ship far away from this hell hole, with enough money to make yourself a lord over there. You could've had a comfortable life far away from Westeros." Jaime glared at him.

"I could've, but I had other plans."

"Kill me and our sweet sister, I know." Jaime rolled his eyes, then glared at the door. "Where the fuck is my wine!?"

"Not coming."

"Why not?"

"Because I told her to ignore you. I will not let you drink yourself to death, not here." Tyrion shrugged.

"What do you care what I do? You should've told your queen to kill me." Jaime was glaring daggers at him as he continued his pacing.

"Because I still have questions you haven't answered. And unlike some men, you don't get loose of tongue when you drink. Instead, you get quiet and gain a nasty temper."

"Maybe I'll piss off the right people then and they'll kill me before I have to answer any of your damn questions."

"Sit." Tyrion pointed to the bed.

"Yes, mother." Jaime sneered, sitting on the bed but glaring daggers at Tyrion.

"Careful, some people may get offended if they hear you call me that. They believe I killed her."

"I wouldn't want offend anyone. It would ruin my honorable reputation." The sarcasm dripped from Jaime's mouth like venom from a snake.

"Maybe you need to take a nap. You're quite grumpy."

"I'm sick of sleeping."

"I'll have the maester bring you some dream wine then."

"No!" Jaime stood up again, pacing and clenching his fist, unclenching it and clenching it again. "No dream wine. I don't want to sleep."

"Why not? Sleep is great." Tyrion wanted to get the bottom of this. Yes, Jaime was upset about losing his knighthood. Yes, he was known to take dramatic measures before. But this was a bit overboard, at least from what Tyrion thought. Something else was digging at his big brother. Was it Cersei perhaps? That was the most recent tragedy his brother had to deal with, besides his punishment from Dany.

"None of your concern." Jaime turned away and paced the opposite direction. "Tell that wench to bring me wine."

"No." Tyrion shook his head. "You want to see Tommen again, don't you?"

"Of course I do! He's my son, you can't keep him away-"

"He didn't know that you were his father until recently. Most of his life, you were just his uncle ser Jaime, walking around as a glorified body guard in your fancy white cloak." Tyrion interrupted. "And I actually can keep him away from you, because you are technically Daenerys' prisoner. Tommen is her guest. So until you get your head back on straight and sober up, she will not let you near him and you'll be forced to leave the city without saying goodbye to him. So stop being an unreasonable child, and get yourself together."

His brother didn't respond, but the set in his jaw was enough to tell Tyrion that he had hit a nerve and was getting through to him. "You'll get no wine for the rest of the day. Water only, and it'll stay that way until I think you're going to be mature enough to handle wine again." And with that, the dwarf turned and left the room, leaving his brother to sulk alone.

Tyrion didn't go see Jaime again for three days, but he made sure that there was no way for his brother to get ahold of wine. The maester gave him updates every day. Apparently, the day after Tyrion had forbidden Jaime from drinking, his brother had spent the entire day in bed, shaking and vomiting and complaining of a headache. The next day, he had requested parchment and more ink. And for the rest of that day and next, Jaime had apparently been writing. He would hide the parchments before going to sleep, so what he was writing, the maester wasn't sure. On the fourth day, he decided to go see him.

As he had for the past few visits, Tyrion walked in to find Jaime sleeping. That was another thing the maester had said: Jaime slept fitfully during the night. He would wake up every hour or so, and be awake for another two before falling back to sleep. The maester said Jaime would sometimes talk in his sleep, about fire and poison and betrayal, sometimes calling out for Cersei.

It was around midday, and the sunlight came through the windows turning Jaime's hair to a shimmering gold. He had shaved, Tyrion noticed, and his hair was brushed, though a little tangled now from the pillow. From the peacefulness on his face, it was safe to assume he was having a pleasant nap with no nightmares. He was stretched out under the blankets, which for once weren't all tangled up with his legs. That was part of why he was still here: he kept reopening his leg wound in his sleep, when nightmares would cause him to thrash around in bed.

The maester was nowhere in sight, so Tyrion decided to let Jaime lay there for a while longer while he looked for the parchments. However, after about five minutes of searching, he looked up to find Jaime laying there in bed, watching him.

"Can I help you?" He asked dryly. Clearly, he was in a bit of a mood.

"You can tell me what you've been writing these past few days."

"I could, but I won't. Not yet." Jaime rolled onto his back, and yawned, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

"When will you?"

"Whenever I want to. But those parchments cant be the only reason you're in here."

"Am I not allowed to just come visit my dear brother?"

"You wanted me dead not too long ago. I'm not too sure that urge has left you." Jaime pointed out, looking over lazily at Tyrion. There was a dullness in his eyes now, Tyrion thought. No longer did Jaime's eyes shine with fire and determination and stubbornness, but a sadness and hopelessness to them.

"There are times I think about reconsidering my decision to not have you beheaded." Tyrion admitted, nodding. Jaime's lack of a reaction told him how seriously he had taken that threat.

"Should I get on my knees and kiss your feet and bed for mercy, or will you allow me to cower here on my bed?" Jaime asked dryly, looking in no-way eager to get up.

"You may cower on your bed if you like." Tyrion mused, just as dryly as his brother had. "Or you can get up, dress yourself, and come with me and see the dragons." Anything he could do to get Jaime out of bed and back into the fresh air would be good. This room was stuffy and from what the maester said, Jaime needed to walk and exercise his leg. Yet getting Jaime to leave his room had proven hard for the Maester.

"I have no interest in seeing any more damn dragons. I'm sick of dragons."

"When did you last see a dragon?"

"I think I caught a glimpse of them when your queen first invaded. Before that, I stood in a throne room full of dragon skulls with teeth bigger than I was. That was enough to convince me that I would never want to see a living dragon." Jaime shook his head.

"These are smaller."

"But still have teeth bigger than a dog and breathe fire. I like my fires on the ground or in a hearth, where I can watch them be made and put them out if I want to."

"You're afraid of the dragons."

"And anyone with half a mind would be." Jaime said stubbornly. "I will not go see those beasts. With my luck, they'll burn me alive. I made it through the Mad King's rule without being burned alive, and I would prefer to continue that path."

Tyrion shook his head. There would be no convincing Jaime to go for a walk that way, and he wouldn't even try to tell him to just walk with him. There was no way his brother would go for that.

"Tomorrow afternoon Tommen has jousting lessons Ser Barristan."

"He can still hold a lance? By the gods, how old is he now?"

"He won't be jousting against him, just instructing him how to do it. Would you like to go watch?"

There was that strange look on Jaime's face. "I think I would."

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow around lunchtime then." Tyrion nodded. He headed towards the door to leave, but then turned around. "You'd do well to get out of bed for a while today. Daenerys might be stopping by later."

*.*.*.*.*

 **Jaime**

As it turned out, the queen did come to see him later. She came unannounced and didn't bother knocking, and of course, as was his luck these past few days, at a bad time. He was just getting out of a bath when she walked in. Of course, he hadn't really needed a bath. The warm water just made his aching body feel good. _Aching body…I'm only in my 40s, yet I feel as though I've aged 100 years in these past few months._ He thought to himself.

"Your Grace." He greeted, giving an awkward bow before turning to find his clothes. Then he remembered the servants had taken them to wash them, since the breeches had dried blood on them from when he had reopened his leg wound, and the shirt…well, he was more concerned about putting on pants. To give her credit, Daenerys didn't seem too disgusted by Jaime's scarred body. His back was laced with scars from Lady Stoneheart and her whip, the lashes having curved around his body to leave marks along his chest, shoulders, and stomach too. His ribs were more visible than they should, because Jaime had very little appetite these days. He simply had no desire to eat. There were scars on him from battles and tourneys and one scar on his shoulder from when he was younger and a horse had flipped over on him and he had hit the fence and nearly broke his arm. How he managed to not break his arm, he wasn't sure. He only knew that it had hurt. A lot. The wound on his leg was still red and swollen, but had started to heal nicely despite his thrashing around at night. The stump of his hand was as ugly as ever, but there was nothing to be done about that. There was a time once when Jaime could've had girls lining up to see him naked. He had been younger, well-muscled and well fed, at the very height of him prime. Yet he had saved his best for Cersei, but now she was gone. "I apologize, I did not expect you to come unannounced." He stated, digging in the chest at the end of the bed for a pair of breeches.

"I have a few questions for you." The Targaryen Queen said. What could she possibly want from him that she would come to him instead of her summoning him to her?

"Ask away. If I have the answer, I'll tell you." Jaime pulled on breeches and found a shirt to wear, and sat on his bed. He would offer her a seat or a glass of wine, but he was a prisoner. It was not his place to offer her those things, but he would not wait for her to offer it to him a seat either. If she complained, he would blame it on his leg.

"You served in the Kings Guard for my father. I hear he kept you closer than most of his other knights."

"I was his hostage against my own father. He thought that keeping me close would keep my father from attacking him." Jaime wasn't sure where exactly this was going, but he pretty sure he wouldn't like it. He clumsily pulled a shirt on before starting to work on tying his breeches.

"What was he like?"

He definitely did not like where this was going. As the young Queen sat in the chair that the Maester often sat in during the days when Jaime was in and out of fever dreams, he sighed.

"He wasn't called the Mad King for nothing, Your Grace." Jaime sighed. "Do you want the whole truth, or the watered down version?"

"The whole truth." She stared at him with those purple Targaryen eyes.

"He was a twisted son of a bitch." Jaime said bluntly. He could see the anger in her eyes at his choice of words, but he kept going before she could scold him. "I stood in the room along with the other Kings Guard men, and we all stood back and watched as he burned men and women and children alive. Babes still at the breast were burned alive, either together with their mother or with their mother watching. As he burned Ned Stark's father and brother, he laughed while they screamed. He laughed for everyone who he burned alive, and he burned alive many, many people. At night, I would stand guard outside his room. Every. Damn. Night. And I was forced to stand here and listen to him rape his wife's handmaids and abuse the Queen. He would beat them, and if the handmaids didn't please him, he would burn them alive the next morning. He ordered me to bring him my father's head. He ordered the pyromancer to set the whole city on fire, with everyone in it. Your Grace, your father was a sick, twisted man and if given the chance, I would go back in time and put my sword through his heart as soon as I got close enough to him, even if I would've been killed as punishment for it. How many lives would've been saved if I had only killed him sooner?"

Towards the end of his rant, Jaime had started to think out loud. How many lives could've been saved? If he would've killed Aerys then, Rheagar would've been king. Rheagar was a kinder man than Aerys. "If I had only killed your bloody father first, Rheagar would've been King, and maybe Robert's Rebellion would've been put down."

"How old were you when you served my father?" The Queen's eyes were no longer angry looking, but still fierce. Every bit a dragon.

"Five and ten." Jaime replied. The screams of the people Aerys had burned and tortured echoed in Jaime's head. "Aerys heard voices in his head telling him who was a traitor or a liar, who needed to burn. If you doubt anything I say, ask Ser Barristan. He served the Mad King longer than I did."

"Why did you let Robert Baratheon take the throne?"

"I didn't have a choice who sat on the throne. There was some level of peace while Robert ruled, and I didn't have to stand there and watch as people were burned alive."

"I hear the False King Joffrey was mad. Your son."

Jaime was losing his patience for this. "Joffrey was made from my seed, but he was never my son. He was as sick and twisted as Aerys, I won't deny it. I was barely in Kingslanding during his reign. But as you can see, Tommen is not mad, and neither was Myrcella. Now if it please Your Grace, the maester will be in soon to rewrap my leg and if I'm lucky he'll be bringing milk of the poppy and I'll be quite useless for answering questions about a king long dead."

She seemed to get the hint and she turned and left, her guards trailing behind her. Shortly afterwards, the Maester came in with fresh bandages and some poultice for his leg and milk of the poppy. Jaime's dreams were more like memories now, memories of the times when he served King Aerys. They were more like nightmares than dreams.

 **The next day…**

The next day Jaime was ready when Tyrion came to get him around midday. He hadn't seen Tommen since the day they were attacked. He was told that Tommen had managed to get in his room to see him a day or two after the battle, but Jaime had been feverish and didn't remember much of those days.

"I ran into the maester outside your room." Tyrion said. "He told me to make sure you use this." He held out a cane, and Jaime scowled.

"I'm not using that."

"You will." Tyrion handed it to Jaime, who took it reluctantly. He hated the idea of walking with a cane. He had been one of the best knights in Westeros! He didn't see much point in arguing though. He just wanted to see Tommen and know he was being cared for.

The going was slow, the dwarf and the cripple. But Jaime knew this castle almost as well as he knew the halls of Casterly Rock. They took a shortcut to the practice grounds and made their way down to the seats to watch. They didn't really speak as Tommen was helped onto a massive dappled gray mare. The horse had to be bigger than Jaime's own two! The blonde haired boy was wearing his armor and had a lance in his hand, and Ser Barristan was instructing him on how to hold the lance steady during a charge. For now, he would just be hitting sandbags.

"How old is he now?" Jaime asked, referring to Ser Barristan. He had been a squire when Ser Barristan was still serving in his prime. Now Jaime had been in the Kings Guard for nearly 30-something years.

"I believe he is sixty and eight." Tyrion said, watching as well. Tommen was now cantering along the arena, trying to hold lance steady in one hand while the other hand was holding the reins. They wouldn't add in a shield until later. As Jaime watched, the mare was swishing her black tail around and her ears were back. That wasn't too unusual for a horse to do in the beginning lessons of jousting. But still, something didn't feel quite right.

And a few minutes later, he figured out what was off. Something was wrong with the horse. He could tell something was wrong, but he couldn't tell what.

"He needs to get off that horse." He stated.

"Why?" Tyrion looked confused. "I thought you wanted him to learn jousting!"

"I do, but not on that horse." Jaime said as the horse took a dramatic stride. Her ears were pinned back flat against her head, her tail like a tornado behind her. She stopped suddenly, rearing up a few inches off the ground. "Get him off of that animal!" Jaime shouted, but it was too late. The horse reared up again, and Tommen was still trying to balance the lance. The horse reared too far back. Knights and squires ran towards her to try to pull her back down, but they weren't fast enough. She flipped over, and Jaime, in a stupid rush of adrenaline, launched himself over the rail and ran –limping- towards where his son was being crushed under the weight of a trashing horse. The horse rolled and got back to her feet, running off bucking and screaming. Tommen lay on the ground, his neck bent unnaturally and his sightless eyes still wide with terror. Jaime pushed the others away as he dropped to his knees besides the son he only got to be a father too for a few weeks, and picked up the broken body, hugging it close, silently cursing the gods and the horse and Ser Barristan and the stables boys and anyone else he could think of. His son. His last son, the only one he had left besides the brother that had wanted him dead, was now gone. He may have only been able to claim him as a son for a few weeks, but that didn't matter. Tommen had always been so innocent, so good, so unlike either of his parents. It wasn't fair.

 **Tyrion**

Tyrion stared in shock. He wasn't entirely sure what had happened, but he knew that now his nephew was dead and his brother was on his knees, hugging the dead body against him as if he could protect him still. Someone caught the horse and brought it over to where Jaime sat on the ground. Jaime moved as quick then as he did in his prime. He put Tommen down, yanked the sword from the scabbard of another knight, and slashed the mare's throat open as easily as if he were slicing through butter. In those moments, Tyrion saw a glimpse of the old Jaime, the Lion of Lannister, the knight his brother had once been. But then the moment was gone, and he was back on his knees, clutching his son's body as if it were the only thing holding him to the earth. And little did Tyrion know, that would be one of the last he saw Jaime for a very long time.

 **Sorry it took so long to get this up. There's only a chapter or two left of it before I end it and probably go back to doing random one-shots that have a 90% chance of being depressing, dark, and rather upsetting stories centered around Jaime because he's my favorite character.**


	6. Chapter 6: Jaime-Tyrion-Jaime

**I am so horribly sorry for how long this took. So sorry. Deepest apologies.**

 **I believe this chapter will be the next to last chapter. Let it be a good one.**

Jaime

Jaime wasn't entirely sure what he was doing as he tossed things into the bag he was holding. Two pairs of breeches, two shirts, a knife he stole from the armory, some money and some food. His hand was strapped on his stump and he tossed the bag over his shoulders as he made his way out of the room, still limping. It was around midnight, but that was good. Everyone was still sleeping. He snuck into the maester's chambers and grabbed a dark dye, before hurrying outside and making his way to the stable, being careful to avoid the eyes of the guards. He made his way over to Honor's stall, and the big horse lifted his head and looked at Jaime as if he was confused to see him this late at night.

It took Jaime longer than it would've if he had two hands, but he managed to tack up his horse on his own without waking the stable boys. He lead Honor outside, mounted, and wheeled him around to a gate Jaime knew was never guarded and was hidden from most people. An escape route that Rheagar had made. He had shown Jaime it once, after Jaime had told him that he knew he was here as a hostage against his father. He hadn't been very happy about it, and had ended up telling Rheagar how sick he was of standing guard while Aerys abused his wife. It was when he had begged Rheagar to let him go with him to fight. The kind prince had instead told Jaime that if things got too bad here, if the king was already dead and there was no way for Jaime to get out of the main gate to go through this one and run into the countryside, to make his way back towards Casterly Rock. Back then, Jaime had said only a coward would run. But running was what he was doing now, wasn't it?

He couldn't stand the thought of seeing Tommen laying on a hard stone with painted rocks over his eyes though. He couldn't stand the thought of seeing anyone else at all laying there, with those ugly stone eyes, the perfume of death, the stiff way they laid. He didn't want to see them burn the body on the pyre either, as he was sure the new Queen would do. He climbed off and opened the gate, leading Honor through before closing the gate, getting back in the saddle, and spurring the horse onward.

Jaime didn't slow until dawn. Honor was lathered with sweat as the sun began to peak over the horizon, the sky turning the color of blood and roses. Strange how the world could look so beautiful after everything that happened. But the sky never changed, no matter what went on down on the ground. The sun would always rise and set and the stars would always rest like freckles on the night sky. The seasons would change, the tide would come and go, and the trees would always grow back, no matter what the humans did during their lives. It made Jaime feel small to think of such things. He turned the horse away and urged him into a walk for a bit, until they could disappear into the woods and he felt they would not be seen. He knew these woods well, and made his way to the small stream that ran through them. He pulled Honor to a stop there and dismounted, nearly collapsing. His leg had gone numb during the ride, but now it was alive with pain. He had to lean on his horse to stay standing until he could put a little more weight on his leg, then he pulled the dye from his saddle bags and lowered himself to the ground, leaning against a tree. He knew Honor wouldn't leave him, so he didn't bother hobbling him. Jaime ran the dye through his hair now, turning the gold to a darker brown, almost black. He didn't want to be found, and he didn't want to be recognized if he ran into any hunters.

Once the dye in Jaime's hair had dried, he pushed himself back to his feet and pulled himself back onto Honor, urging the horse into the stream and they continued their journey against the flow of the water, hoping that should the new queen send hunters after him, the dogs would lose the scent in the water.

 **Tyrion**

"The Kingslayer is gone!" Someone in the hall yelled. Tyrion, who had only just woken up, quickly pulled on the rest of his clothes and hurried outside, looking for an explanation. No one seemed to notice him though. They were running around like chickens without heads. He decided his best bet would be to find the small council.

Once he got to the council, he found them just as worked up as the guards and servants in the halls.

"He's gone! I've looked in every room, but there's no sign of him!"

"There's a horse missing from the stables. The stable boys say it's one of the KingSlayers."

"How far could he have gone? He was still recovering, still complaining of pain."

"Obviously he couldn't be in too much pain! You saw him jump over that wall the other day-"

"To get to his son who was being crushed."

"By the time I got him back up to his chambers, he could hardly walk." The maester shook his head. "Perhaps someone took him?"

"No, even crippled Jaime Lannister is a force to be reckoned with. No one would be able to kidnap him."

"We should send out search parties-"

"You wont find him." Tyrion spoke up finally, climbing into a chair. Dany was sitting at the head of the table, and hadn't spoke yet since Tyrion walked in.

"What makes you say that?" Gray Worm asked.

"Because Jaime knows Westeros better than any of you. He's lived in Kings Landing since he was pretty much just a boy. War has burned half the realm to a crisp, but he's been here through it all and knows whats still standing and what isn't. If Jaime does not want to be found, he won't be." Tyrion stated.

"So we just let him roam?" someone asked angrily.

"What harm could he do?" Tyrion challenged. "He has one hand and is still recovering from the battle. He watched his son die yesterday, I'm the last relative he has left and he's not as fond of me as he used to be. On top of that, he's a Lannister and a well known and well hated one at that. No one will rally behind him and he isn't dumb enough to try to rally anyone."

"I agree with Tyrion." Ser Barristan spoke up for the first time since Tyrion entered the room. "I'm not very fond of Jaime, but he's not stupid. He'll know Westeros better than anyone we send after him, since he's been leading an army over it for some time. You all saw him at the trial. I knew him when he was still a squire, maybe not as well as some, but well enough to know from seeing him when he was given his punishment to know he's done. There's no fight left in him."

"No one will go after the Kingslayer." Dany declared. "Unless rumors come up that he is trying to rebel. He was going to sent off anyway."

With that, the council moved on to the next topics. What repairs were still left, who had yet to declare loyalty, the struggles going on in the North with the White walkers and what to do about them, and so on like that. But Tyrion wasn't paying much attention. He was thinking about his brother, wondering where Jaime was, when he left, what had been going through his mind. Jaime could be quite impulsive sometimes, and Tyrion only hoped his brother wasn't going to do anything too stupid. So far no reports of dead bodies found in the castle had been made, and that was a good thing. That meant he had slipped out without a struggle and no side-trips to murder anyone like Tyrion had. While Tyrion may not be much of a devote believer in the gods, he found himself silently praying to any god that would listen that Jaime would find some peace somewhere. The more the dwarf thought about what his brother had gone through since coming to Kings Landing as a young boy squire, the more he felt bad for brother.

No boy should have to stand and watch while the king he was sworn to protect burns people alive, no boy should have to be told to bring the king his fathers head, no boy should be forced to kill that king in order to save a whole city of people. Jaime had been 16 when he killed the king. When Tyrion had gone to the city for his sister's wedding, he had seeked out Jaime in the Kingsguard tower, and found his brother tossing and turning in his sleep, lost in the horror of some nightmare and mumbling things about wyldfire. Back then, Tyrion hadn't put much thought into it. But now he understood what had been happening.

After the council meeting ended, Tyrion went up to Jaime's quarters and searched the room, every place he could reach, to see if his brother left any clue to where he was going. There were none. No note, no sign, no chance to figure out where or why he had left. Of course, it really wasn't too hard to figure out why. Jaime had lost everything by now, and he had probably wanted to get out before the funeral for Tommen. Tyrion couldn't blame him for that. How many funerals had Jaime gone to and stood vigil? Too many he was sure, and after watching his son die like that so soon after their sister, it was a wonder Jaime had been able to function enough to plan an escape the way he did. It appeared he had taken only the bare necessities.

"Lord Tyrion."

Tyrion turned around at the sound of the voice, and saw the maester standing in the doorway.

"I was taking inventory of what I have. It appears a dark hair dye is missing from my shelves."

"So he's even gone as far as to disguise himself. Maester, what do you think Jaime's plans are? You've been with him more than anyone these past few weeks."

"I think he has a tortured soul and wants to escape. Every night he's kept up with nightmares, he wants to drink himself into oblivion during the day, and he dreads going to sleep at night because he knows it'll all happen again. Perhaps he's finally broke and decided to hide out in the country until he dies."

 **Jaime**

Jaime continued riding for several days, stopping only to relieve himself, eat, and rest. When he finally decided that he wasn't be chased, he stopped at a little town. He didn't recognize it, meaning it must've been built after the war. No matter. He made his way to an inn, wanting to spend the night on a bed before setting out again in the morning. He dismounted outside of a inn called "The Wandering Cat" and a stable boy came out to take his horse.

"Give him plenty of hay. The old beast deserves it." Jaime told him, handing the boy the reins. Honor shook his whole body like a dog before walking after the boy. Recently Jaime had noticed gray coming up around the horse's eyes. He hadn't realized how long he had actually had his trusty steed, and he felt bad for riding him as hard as he had these past few days, but he needed to get away from Kings Landing. After the boy disappeared into the barn with his horse, Jaime walked into the inn and rented a room for a night, a cup of ale and a roast pork dinner. It wasn't the best pork, but it was better than the few small fish he'd managed to catch the past few days. As he ate, he watched a few whores make their way around the tables, offering themselves to the men for some coin.

Jaime was curious. He had never had a women besides Cersei, and she was dead. He had no more vows saying he couldn't lie with a woman either, and he wouldn't lie and say he wasn't interested. For all the new aches and pains he had, _that_ part of him had no issues. When a pretty blonde whore made his way to him, Jaime accepted and they went up to his room. He took her every way he could. From behind like some animal, from the front, allowed her to pleasure him her mouth and any other way possible. In the morning however, he was just as unsatisfied as he was before he got to the town. He climbed out of bed, leaving the whore there and tossing a few silvers on the mattress for whenever she awoke, and he dressed, gathered his things, and went back down for a quick meal before leaving.

The morning mist was just beginning to fade when he made his way outside and took his horse from the stables. He tacked him up and climbed on, thankful to get off his leg. Thanks to Jaime's riding and the nightmares he would have at night, his leg still refused to heal fully. Chances are, it would get infected soon and he would die. So be it. He was ready. Standing was painful, and walking hurt even more. At least when he rode Honor, he could take the weight off his leg, though it would without a doubt be stiff when he got off next.

He didn't race out of the town, but rather kept the horse at a walk. Honor didn't seem to mind, and Jaime watched as the place came to life, merchants heading out to their stands, people waking up to watch the sun melt away the fog and the frost. It was much colder here than in Kings Landing, even though it wasn't too far apart.

It wasn't until around midday when Jaime stopped again. The sky had grown dark and there was some rumbling of thunder, so he knew a storm was coming. Though thunderstorms were not common in the winter, he knew it wasn't unheard of. He spotted an abandoned building. It looked like it had once been a house, the walls stone and the roof seemed to be starting to fall apart, but it seemed big enough. Jaime dismounted and grabbed Honor's reins and with some coaxing, managed to bring the horse inside. He wasn't sure why, back in the war he hadn't really cared if Honor and Glory were kept outside in storms. Maybe now because Honor was his only company and the horse had been loyal for so long, Jaime felt the need to protect him a little more. Or perhaps, he was simply losing his mind. Either one seemed quite likely. He hobbled the horse this time, only because there was nothing here he could see that the horse would eat. In fact, there didn't seem too be much of anything in here. An old wooden table, some cabinets, and two windows, and doorway that seemed to lead to another room.

"Anyone home?" Jaime called, but was answered with silence. He approached the doorway and knocked, before pushing it open. Some old dusty blankets were on the floor, but other than that, it seemed empty. He turned back out to search the cupboards for food. As he bent down to look in the ones on the bottom –bending down was quite a process, thanks to his leg-, something hard hit him over the back of the head.

"Ow!" He yelped and put a hand up to block it again, catching whatever it was before it could hit him again. He turned around and saw a boy standing there, holding the stick and trying to pull it back. He looked to be around 14.

"Let go! Get out of my house! And take your horse with you!" The boy demanded, yanking the stick hard, but Jaime gripped it tightly, glaring at the boy.

"It doesn't seem to me like anyone has lived here in quite some time." He stated.

"Doesn't matter, I live here!" The boy yanked again and this time Jaime let it go and the boy fell back onto his rump. Jaime pushed himself to his feet, glaring down at the kid.

"If you live here, why didn't you answer me when I asked if anyone lived here?" He challenged.

"Because I didn't know if you were a threat. But you're just a beggar, so get out!"

Thunder cracked outside, loud and it seemed as though the heavens opened up. Jaime looked out of the window and saw lightning flash across the sky. He turned back to the boy.

"Would you really kick an old man out in a storm like this?" Jaime gestured to the window with his stump.

"You don't look that old." The kid pushed himself to his feet, but he seemed a little calmer, probably because Jaime hadn't attacked him and was missing a hand.

"No, but I feel old. Let me wait out the storm here with my horse, and I'll pay you." Jaime offered.

The boy looked like he wasn't sure what to do. Now that Jaime could look at him, he knew the kid was underweight and probably an orphan. His clothes were ragged and his brown hair long and unkempt.

"We need coin, brother." A new voice said, and Jaime turned to see a little girl poke her head out of a cupboard. She climbed all the way out and couldn't be older than 9, her dress dirty and torn and his brown hair long and knotted. She was underweight too. "Let him stay, maybe he has some food. I'm hungry."

The boy looked annoyed that she had come out, but that seemed to make up his mind. "Fine, you can stay. But if you try to trick us…" He let the threat hang there. Jaime put his hand up in surrender.

"No tricks. But here, I do have some extra food." He went back over to Honor and dug in the saddle bags, pulling out some dried meat and dried fruit. It wasn't much, but the kids needed it more than him. The girl didn't hesitate in coming over when Jaime offered it.

"Thank you mister!" She said with a huge grin on her face as she took some of it.

"Don't eat that, it might be-"

"Poisoned?" Jaime finished his sentence and took a bite of the dried meat himself. "It's not. I have no reason to carried poisoned food with me. I'm just a traveler."

While he still didn't look so sure, the boy seemed to let hunger decide and took some of it as well. He leaned on the table and watched Jaime suspiciously while his sister ate her share happily.

"What's your name?" He asked Jaime.

Jaime hesitated. Should he give his last name? Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms knew Jaime Lannister had one hand, and they would know by now that he escaped Kings Landing. "Jon." He said. There were a million Jons, no one would notice one more. "What about yours?"

"I'm Robin." The boy said. "And this is my sister Anne."

Anne looked up at the sound of her name, and seemed to notice Jaime's missing hand. "How'd ya lose your hand?" she asked.

"Anne!" Robin scolded.

"It's okay." Jaime said before Robin could scold her more. He turned towards Anne and sighed. "I got it cut off in the war. It's a good thing it happened though, because I finally got to go home." He said. It wasn't a total lie. It _was_ a good thing it happened, because it gave him a reality check. Though returning home…he wasn't sure he could consider Kings Landing his home. Yes, he lived there for years now. But he had never felt content there.

"What side of the war did you fight on?" Robin asked. Jaime sat down by Honor's front feet, wanting to get the weight off his leg.

"The crown." He said. "I didn't have much of a choice though. I was simply a soldier, and went where my king sent me."

"Our father fought in the war, but he never came home." Anne said. Robin looked like he was ready to scold her again. "And our mother was taken by some soldiers. She let them hurt her so they would leave us alone, but she got sick and died." She sniffled.

"Enough, Anne." Robin sighed. "We'll be okay without them."

Jaime frowned. So they were orphans, and hungry ones at that. That wasn't fair. He could give them money, but who was to say they wouldn't be robbed? Robin may had a strong arm for swinging that stick, but that wouldn't save them if someone came in armed. He didn't say anything though.

For the rest of the afternoon, Jaime sat and told them stories of the war, keeping them mild for Anne. He changed some details, changed some names and added some places, but it seemed to keep Anne entertained, which seemed to keep Robin content with letting Jaime stay. By the time the storm ended, it was dark out. Robin offered to let Jaime stay, and since his leg was aching from the weather, he agreed. He let Honor go back outside, cleaning the mess the horse had made inside, before going back in and finding Anne had already set to work making him a bed of blankets.

That morning, just as he was leaving, Anne grabbed the back of his shirt. "Don't leave, Jon!" She cried. "I don't want you to leave, what if you don't come back like father did!?" Her eyes were watery.

"Anne, let him go." Robin said. The boy was holding the pouch of coins that Jaime had given him, as if he was weighing it. "He has other places to go."

"Let us come with you then!" Anne said, looking at Jaime expectantly. "You can teach Robin how to sword fight, and I can try to cook, and we can all stay together! You can be our new father!"

And Jaime felt his heart break at that, though part of him cursed himself for going soft. But he had wanted to be a father to his own children and never had a chance. These kids were orphans because of the war that Jaime had lead troops in, and maybe helping them a little more would make up for some of the wrongs he's done. He looked at Anne, then to Robin.

"If your brother says it's okay, you can both come with me."

"You only have one horse, and you're obviously still injured from your last fight. We'd get separated." Robin said.

"You have enough coin there to buy yourself a horse. And mine won't mind some extra weight. Winter is here, and it's about to get cold. Beggars and bandits will be looking for warm places to hide, and your little house is perfect for them. A stick won't stop them. And while I may be on the road, I know where there are inns and keeps and how to get the owners to let us in. And I know how to keep everyone warm on the roads if an inn isn't an option." Jaime pointed out. "I can teach you how to protect your sister even better than now."

And so Anne and Robin went with Jaime to the next village. It wasn't far, much closer than the town Jaime had left the day before. Robin bought himself a horse and Jaime got more food and some warmer clothes for Anne. Then they set off down the road, Robin and Anne riding double while Jaime lead the way on Honor.

 **And that's the end of this chapter. Next chapter will be the last.**


	7. Chapter 7: Jaime-Robin-Tyrion

**I am so sorry this took so long. In my defense, I started college.**

 **Hopefully the length makes up for it. This is the last chapter!**

 **But lets just get to the story.**

 **Jaime**

Jaime, Robin, and Anne had been traveling together for weeks, months even, and had grown quite close over that time. For the first time in many, many years Jaime felt as though he had a family that actually cared. He was actually quite surprised at how quickly he had begun to consider the two to be his children, even if they weren't by blood. Anne had seemed to accept Jaime as her new father figure quite quickly, and for the very first time, Jaime could openly act like how he thought a father should. He could openly care about a child as his own instead of just as a 'nephew' or 'niece'. Strange how this adopted family was more like a family than his own blood relatives. Robin however proved a little harder to break through. He was distrusting and suspicious of everyone and everything, but Jaime couldn't blame him. Even still, while he seemed to trust that Jaime wouldn't hurt Anne, he didn't trust Jaime fully.

At night, if they couldn't find an inn to stay at or any villagers or townsfolk willing to let them in, they would sleep out under the stars or in an abandoned building, where Jaime would build them a nice fire for warmth and both Jaime and Robin would make sure Anne was in the driest and warmest place. If there was one thing they agreed on without argument, it was that Anne needed to be protected at all costs. Now that Jaime was there, they had finally managed to get a little more weight on both Anne and Robin, and with the weight came shinier hair, brighter eyes, and more energy. Jaime on the other hand, had seemed to of continued to lose weight. He didn't have much of an appetite anymore.

One of the nights they had to stay outside, Anne had fallen asleep early. She had managed to convince Jaime and Robin to play 'come into my castle' with her. Jaime was sure that no one in Kings Landing would ever let him live that down if they ever saw it. A 40 year old knight, the Lion of Lannister, the Kingslayer, playing 'come into my castle' with a little girl and her brother. Anne had exhausted herself though, and fell asleep shortly after eating the warm meat from the rabbit Jaime had roasted over the fire not too long ago.

Jaime had finally settled down in his spot for the night, his leg throbbing. While it had finally "healed" –rather hideously, in his opinion- it would still cause him pain in the colder weather or if it used it too much. Scar tissue made it look a little bigger than his other leg, and the skin was permanently red around the scar. Robin was sitting across the fire from him, staring into the flames with his knees drawn up and his chin resting on his knees. It was a quiet night and the sky was clear. The only sounds came from the crackle of the fire and the horses grazing a few feet away.

"I know who you are." Robin said suddenly, quietly. Jaime rose an eye brow and simply waited for Robin to continue. He knew he would. "I figured it out a few days after we meet you. You're the Kingslayer. Jaime Lannister." Robin looked at him accusingly, but his tone was even and he made no move to get up and attack him. Jaime had been teaching him how to fight, as best he could with his left hand.

"And how did you figure it out?" Jaime asked calmly. He wouldn't deny it, he knew there was no point.

"A few reasons. For one, your hair. The roots are blonde and I saw you trying to dye them a few days after we met. Then your horse is clearly a well bred one, the kind that knights and soldiers ride, not travelers. You would've had to either have stolen him or have been a knight already. And since you seemed to know him and trust him so much, I knew you couldn't have stolen him. The way you ride, it's as if you grew up in the saddle. You ride like a high born, with your back straight and shoulders back. You talk like a highborn. You never talk about your family, except to say you don't really have one anymore and you fought for the crown and 'went where the king told you'. I took all of that, and the fact that you have one hand and the other one is clearly made of good metal and not cheap, and the only person I could think that would fit those would be the Kingslayer." Robin explained.

Jaime nodded. "Good, you pay attention to who you meet. Do you know why they call me Kingslayer though?"

"Because you killed the mad king." Robin answered it with a slightly confused expression. It was a self explanatory name, technically.

"Yes, I killed King Aerys. But the one thing no one asks is _why._ No one ever asked me why I kill the king, not until the new dragon queen. Not even the most honorable of knights bother to ask _why._ " Jaime explained. "The Mad King didn't just get his name for nothing, Robin. He burned people alive for the crime of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. When my father, Tywin Lannister, began the sack of Kings Landing, the Mad King was going to burn the whole city down with wyldfire. He thought he would be reborn as a dragon and be able to burn his enemies to death. And he was willing to kill everyone in the city in order to do it, women, children, elderly, sick, it didn't matter to him." Jaime was staring at the flames, remembering Aery's reign of terror over the Seven Kingdoms. Of all the horror Jaime had seen because of him. "Always ask why, Robin. There's a reason behind everything, I promise you that. Sometimes it might just be because someone felt like doing something, but sometimes, it's so much more than just wanting to do something. Always ask _why."_

"Why didn't you tell us who you were?" Robin asked.

"Would you have trusted me if I told you who I was?" Jaime answered with a question, glancing up from the flames to look at the boy in front of him.

"No, I wouldn't have. I would've waited until you were asleep and probably steal your money and your horse and leave you for the wolves."

Jaime laughed quietly. He would've done the same in his youth, probably. Or at least he would've threatened the same. "Do you still want to do that?"

"Not really. You're not exactly how I expected the Kingslayer to be like. My father had always talked about wanting to fight you." Robin's lips twitched a little, as if he almost smiled. "He used to say that if he ever got his hands on you, he would tie you up and cut off your cock and let you bleed to death. He hated you because you killed his best friend in a joust."

"Well, then I'm glad he never got his hands on me. I would rather keep down there intact and would prefer a quick death over a slow one." He pulled one knee up and rested his chin on it, sighing. Despite everything, he actually felt content here. He felt calm and at peace for once in his life. Robin seemed to be satisfied in his answers for now, and didn't appear to have any more questions. So for the next few hours, the two sat in silence around the fire. Jaime wondered if Robin was going to tell Anne who Jaime really was, or if he would let her continue on believing that his name was Jon and was just a soldier in the Kings old army? He would leave it up to Robin.

The next day, Robin didn't mention the conversation that he and Jaime had had the night before. Because of this, Anne continued to call Jaime Jon. Sometimes it was 'uncle Jon', but she would often get embarrassed when she slipped like that and turn bright red. Jaime didn't mind. While he did honestly like "Ser uncle Jaime" or just "Ser uncle" better, he knew he would never hear his actually son or his actual daughter say it again. And he also knew that he would not be having any more biological children. He was fine with this idea, however, content to live with just Robin and Anne. He had been helping Robin with his sword skills, using sticks they found on the road. It wasn't the best tool for learning, but it was all about movement and speed. Jaime had unarmed some of the best in his prime, before he lost his hand. They practiced early in the morning as the sun rose, then had breakfast with Anne, and they would head back out on the road to wherever they were going next.

But around noon, a strange feeling came over Jaime. It was hard to explain, an ache, a throb, numbness, he wasn't quite sure what it was. But he pulled Honor to a stop and tried to focus on the feeling, trying to pinpoint it. Robin and Anne stopped a few ahead and turned around.

"Jon? Are you okay?" Anne asked, in the innocent voice that only a child can have.

"I'm okay." Jaime told her, but he wasn't so sure. He looked back down the road they had come down. "Let's go this way instead. The further North we go, the colder. And winter is coming." He turned his horse in a 90 degree angle, heading away from the coast and away from the north. The other two didn't question him as he spurred Honor into a controlled gallop. Anne loved when they let the horses run, and both the horses seemed to enjoy running as well. They stopped and dismounted to water the horses and eat a little lunch. And still the feeling was there and Jaime was beginning to have a growing suspicion on what it was.

 **Several days later…**

Jaime knew that he was dying when he realized he could no longer hold any food in his body. Everything he ate would go right through him, and if it wasn't exiting one way, it was going out the other. Anne and Robin had noticed this right away, even though Jaime still did his best to act normal. The lack of food was making him a little irritable and he didn't have as much energy. He knew he didn't have the bloody flux, or any flux for that matter. He had had a flux once, not a bad case of it but he was still one of the very few to be able to say he survived it. But this was something entirely different. It wasn't painful, his body just couldn't hold onto food anymore. He had changed their course back towards Kings Landing though, knowing he couldn't bring Anne and Robin North just to abandon them there when he died. Not if all these rumors of white walkers were true. At this point, he was willing to believe most anything. Dragons were back, so why not white walkers? He had seen proof of the living dead already anyway.

It was when they were a half day's ride from Kingslanding that Robin finally approached Jaime about what was going on. It was late and again, Anne was already asleep.

"Whats going on with you? You don't eat anymore, and whenever you do, you disappear right afterwards." Robin asked, his expression one mixed of concern and suspicion and maybe a hint of irritation. Jaime was exhausted. He didn't feel like sitting there and spending the night talking. He knew he didn't have much longer, and he had still had something he had to do. So he decided to just say it. Robin had a right to know.

"I'm dying, Robin." Jaime sighed. "And so I'm bringing you and Anne to Kingslanding. It smells like pig shit there, I won't lie about it. You don't have to stay there if you don't want to, but it's the only place I can think of that can protect you for the winter. My brother can get Anne a place in court where she has the chance to marry a man with enough money and land to keep her happy, and he won't make just a power match for her. You can become a knight, and be a better one than I was. Or you can head out on your own and find your own way. I just need you to deliver something for me."

"Deliver what?" Robin tilted his head. If he was surprised by Jaime's confession, he didn't act it.

Jaime pulled a book from his saddle bags, which he was leaning on. The book was beaten up, the cover plain leather and the pages looked as though they had gotten wet and then dried. "You need to bring this to Tyrion. When he gets it, tell him to open to the last page."

Robin hesitated, but then nodded. He would not let Jaime down. Jaime gave him a tired smile, before he pulled out his quill and scratched a few more pages into the book by the light of the full moon and the flickering orange light of the flame.

 **Robin**

The next day was a little harder than Robin had expected it to be. He had suspected Jaime was sick for a while now, but after their time traveling together, after all the stories Jaime told them of what he had done in his time as a knight, he had seemed undefeatable. Immortal. But now Jaime was dying, and Robin could see it plain as day. They were in sight of the walls of Kingslanding now, standing on a hill overlooking the great city. To their left, a forest stretched out. The Kingswood, Jaime had told them, where had be knighted. Robin wasn't sure if he would stay in the capitol or not. He had always heard it was a dangerous place, and he wanted to protect Anne. But maybe this was his safest option. Besides, he had to deliver the book for Jaime.

"Aren't you coming with us?" Anne asked, looking up at Jaime with wide eyes. Robin was brought back to the present. The three were standing, having dismounted one last time before entering the city for a final rest break.

"I can't go in with you. But don't worry, you'll have fun. It'll be much warmer and more comfortable in the Red Keep than out here in the cold. And the food is much better too. You'll have a full belly every night." Jaime told her, ruffling her hair. Somehow, Jaime had managed to untangle all the knots from it and even braided it for her so it stayed out of her face. When Robin had questioned him about it, he had simply said his sister was his twin. Robin figured that he must've switched places with her during their lessons as children sometime.

"Will we see you again?" Anne asked. She look devastated at the idea of leaving Jaime behind. She had, after all, begun to see Jaime as a father figure.

"Maybe."

Robin could see Jaime was getting tired. He had noticed it a lot these past few days, the older knight simply couldn't keep up conversation as much as he used to. Now that he knew what was happening, he could see the signs much clearer. Jaime's hair, which had stopped dying as much, had gray in it now. His clothes were even looser on his frame and his face looked thin. He looked much older than he really was.

"Come on, Anne. We need to get moving if we're going to get there before dark." Robin said softly. Before he could pick up his sister and put her on the horse though, she ran forward and hugged Jaime. At first, the old lion seemed surprised and didn't seem to know how to react. But he hugged her back after a minute or two, the stump of his right hand against her back. He still had the golden hand, but had stopped wearing it for whatever reason. Finally, the little girl let go and ran back over to her brother, who lifted her up onto their horse.

In a last minute decision, one that he wasn't even sure when exactly or why he made it, Robin turned and wrapped Jaime in a hug as well. This surprised the older man even more than Anne's hug, but Robin was relieved to find he got a hug back. They didn't speak, but Robin hopped Jaime knew he was thankful for all he had done for him and his sister. They finally broke apart and Robin turned and mounted the horse without looking at Jaime, before he spurred the beast onward and they took off at a gallop. In front of him sat Anne, who looked back at Jaime as they rode away, waving while tears ran down her face. Robin hoped she wouldn't see his.

 **Tyrion**

Over the time since Jaime had escaped, Tyrion had kept himself busy helping Dany set right the wrongs done by Cersei and Joffrey. It was proving quite the challenge, as lands were due to some while others were unfairly gifted lands and wealth that they didn't deserve. Bronn had come back out from hiding at some point and somehow managed to worm his way back into the castle guard. Tyrion suspected it had something to do with Gray Worm being amused by Bronn's lack of respect for rank and blunt humor. Despite the way the Unsullied leader had been trained and how long he had lived that way, he was beginning to show quite a bit of personality.

Tyrion was just starting to take a break and eat a small lunch when his door was pushed open and Bronn came in, followed by two children.

"Don't you know how to knock? I could've been naked." Tyrion protested, putting his wine down.

"If you think you have something I haven't seen, I'd love to see it. But lets not scar the little girl for life just yet." Bronn said, and motioned his two companions in. "These two managed to get in the castle grounds even after they were turned away at the gate. I figure they deserve a chance to speak with you after all the trouble it took for them to get here."

"Can it wait? I was eating."

"No, m'lord." The boy shook his head. His clothes were worn but didn't look too old and his hair was brown and messy. The little girl looked a lot like him, but her hair was neater and braided. The boy was holding a small leather bound book. "I was told to deliver this to you as soon as possible. It's from Ser Jaime."

That caught Tyrion's interest. His brother? What in the world had he gotten himself into now, and how did he manage to rope these kids into it? He got up and made his way over to the boy, who handed him the notebook.

"He told me to tell you to open to the last page as soon as you get it. He said it was important."

Tyrion opened to the last page, and found a note. It was written in the messy writing that he come to recognize as his brother's left hand, though it looked a little shakier than he had last seen.

 _Tyrion,_

 _I know left without warning and I know I didn't do exactly as the queen told me to. I did not go to the places of the people I wronged to apologize in person. I was going to, I really was. But in my travels, I came across these two children, Robin and Anne. They've been traveling with me since we found each other. They're orphans from the war, and blame it on me going soft, but I didn't want to leave them out there alone with winter here. Find them a place in court, please. Robin will make a better knight than I was, a more honorable one. I've been training him as best I can with sticks and my left hand. Anne would make a good handmaiden to someone who will treat her kindly. They're good kids, give them a chance._

 _I want you to make sure your queen knows that I did not step foot back inside the city. I may not have kept my promise to go to each of the houses I did wrong, but I didn't go back into the city after I left and I didn't claim any lands. I traveled, but now my traveling is over and I'm back where this whole mess that took over a majority of my life started. That is where you will find my body and my horse, if you wish to return the old horse to the stable. Ser Barristan knows where._

 _And if by any chance you hear from Lady Brienne of Tarth, and she tries to return a sword called Oathkeeper, threaten to shove it through her arse if she doesn't keep the damn thing! Otherwise, give her my honest regards. It's one of my regrets that I didn't get the chance to see the great, lumbering wench again._

 _I love you little brother, and wish things could've ended differently._

 _-Jaime Lannister_

Tyrion read it twice before looking back up at Bronn. "Get Ser Barristan and meet us at the stables. Quickly." He ordered, and something in his tone or perhaps in his expression made Bronn listen without questioning him. The man simply turned and hurried down the hall in search of the once great knight who was now an older man. The dwarf looked up at the other two people in the room. Anne and Robin were their names. Children, orphaned by the war, and seemingly adopted by Jaime. "You two stay in here. Don't leave this room until I know whats going on." He said and tried to move past them, but Robin followed him.

"M'lord, wait."

Tyrion paused and looked back. "I said to stay in the room."

"I know. I'll go in and stay in a minute, but you're not going to save Jaime. He's accepted it already. He knows he's dying." Robin said, the look in his eyes not one of a child but one of a boy who had been forced to grow up too quickly. Jaime had often had the same look in his eyes, Tyrion realized. The Mad King had taken any ounce of boyhood innocence from Jaime. And war had taken it from this boy. Tyrion just nodded and turned, continuing on his way. He felt Robin watching him.

By the time he reached the stables, Ser Barristan and Bronn were already there, three horses tacked up.

"Do you remember where Jaime was knighted?" Tyrion asked Ser Barristan as he was helped onto his horse. A good mount, quiet and comfortable. Perfect for a dwarf.

"Of course. But why-"

"Lead us there. Quickly."

The other two men mounted up and they tore out of the city, Ser Barristan sensing the urgency of this. The horses seemed to sense it too, and ran hard and true. When Barristan slowed, they were deep in the Kingswood. The sun was getting close to setting.

"My Lord, why are we here?"

"Look for a horse without a rider. Or for Jaime." Tyrion ordered, looking around. The other two looked confused, but didn't question it.

Bronn was the next to speak, however, not long after. His voice was quiet. "I found him." He dismounted just as Tyrion trotted over. The first thing the dwarf saw was the big brown horse, graying around the face and a little on the thin side. He was grazing quietly beside a tree, unsaddled and unbridled, no hobbles on his feet. On the ground by the tree, was Jaime Lannister. He was laying too still, his eyes closed. There was a smell around him that made the other horses shy away. Barristan dismounted and helped Tyrion down silently. The dwarf made his way over to his brother on legs shaky from riding, and in part from disbelief. He sat down beside his brother's head and put a hand on his throat, but there was no pulse and the skin was beginning to cool. He had been too late. Jaime was dead.

"Honor." Barristan said, and the horse looked up. Tyrion looked over at the old knight as well. "That was what Jaime's squires had named his horse. The oldest one, Peck I think his name is. I heard him talking to another boy saying 'Jaime took Honor'. I said there's no honor in killing your king, and he told me 'Honor' was what they called his horse. And then some other choice names as well, but that's not important right now." The old knight explained. He took a rope from the saddle bags that were laying by the tree and tied it around Honor's neck to lead the horse back to the stables.

"Get him on the horse." Tyrion ordered, his voice dull and emotionless. "We're bringing him back to Kingslanding, then I'll have him shipped back to Casterly Rock."

Bronn and Ser Barristan worked silently. They used some extra rope to make sure he wouldn't fall off and then once everyone was on, they made the journey back to Kingslanding.

They arrived back at the Red Keep late that night, the moon already high. Dany was waiting by the stables when they came in, Gray Worm and Missandei by her side as always.

"Will someone explain?" Dany asked, though to say she wasn't annoyed would be to lie.

"In the morning." Tyrion replied, stiffly climbing down from his horse. Turning to Bronn and Barristan he said, "Bring him the sept and have them prepare the body for funeral. His red and gold armor and I guess the red cloak."

"My lord, if I may suggest, perhaps the white cloak would be more suiting." Ser Barristan suggested. Tyrion looked over at him, confused. "As far as I've been told, you never approved of Jaime's place in the Kingsguard."

"He didn't chose to be a part of the Kingsguard." Ser Barristan said. "But at the trial I saw the truth. In some ways, perhaps Jaime Lannister was more of a knight than the rest of us fools-in-white."

Tyrion just nodded. "The white cloak then." And with that, he turned and made his way back to the castle. He was exhausted and drained, and would still need to figure out what to do with Anne and Robin.

"You've brought Jaime back?" Dany said it like a question, but Tyrion knew it was not.

"He's dead, your grace. Regardless of how you feel about him, he was still a knight, still my brother, and still served in the Kingsguard. He kept his promise of never stepping foot in the city again. He apologizes for not keeping up the rest of his side, but he had gotten caught up in caring for two orphans." Tyrion explained to at least get her off his case about it. "Your Grace, it has been a trying evening and I'm exhausted. I would like to grieve the loss of my brother alone, if you will." He stopped walking.

"Very well." Dany gave in, and Tyrion suspected it had something to do with the fact that she had loved her brother as well, despite his violent tendencies. Missandei gave Tyrion a sympathy look as she passed by, but other than that, no one said anything. Tyrion made his way back into the keep, finding his room and pushing open the door. Robin was still there, and on a couch against the wall Anne was laying down asleep. Robin was sitting on the floor in front of her, looking lost in thought.

"The room next door to this one is empty. You and your sister can stay in there tonight until I work something out with the queen. Did anyone bring you supper?"

"Yeah. Did you find him?"

Tyrion nodded.

Robin gave a soft sigh, and stood up, scooping up his sleeping sister and carrying her out of the room and into the next one. Tyrion closed his door, and finally let the tears falls.

 **The next day….**

Tyrion had spent the whole night reading the book Jaime had given him. It was clear Jaime had started to write it before he ran away from the city. Where he had gotten the blank book and where he had hid it, there was no clue. But it was as if Jaime had written down his life from the moment he became a squire in Kindslanding to his last few days. It spoke of how proud he had felt to be allowed to squire for a member of the Kingsguard, how awed he was by the knights who made up the Kingsguard, his trips with them into the Kingswood and his first kill, the day he was knighted on the field, the tourneys he fought in, being named to the Kingsguard, the horrors of serving the Mad King, killing the king and all that followed it. The conflicted feelings and confusion about his many vows, right and wrong. He wrote about the birth of all three of his children, how much he wished he could be more 'uncle ser Jaime', and watching how once everything seemed steady and good it all came crashing down faster than he expected. Some of the more interesting parts came when Jaime met Brienne of Tarth. It didn't take long for Tyrion to come to the end of the book, back to that letter Jaime had written him.

The sun had come up by then, and Tyrion sighed and rubbing at his aching eyes. How had he not seen it? Jaime was not as horrible as he made himself out to be. He had honor, just a strange way of going about it. He was confused and lost for a time, and no one had bothered to try to tell him what way to go. Whenever he had made his own decisions, everyone seemed to judge him for it.

He skipped his breakfast and instead went to sept. The gray sisters had already prepped Jaime's body, and Tyrion found his big brother laying on the table in the center of the room, his armor gleaming red and gold, freshly polished and his cloak white as freshly fallen snow. Jaime's once golden hair was now streaked with gray, but it shown in a way it hadn't when Tyrion had last seen him alive. His hands were resting on the hilt of a sword laid across his body, a long, sharp blade, the hilt ending with a lion's head. His helm was resting beside him. If Tyrion wanted to, he could imagine Jaime had simply laid down in his armor and fell asleep, though he had never been much of a back-sleeping. He had liked to lay on his side. A few people had come in to pay their respected. Jaime's squires stood off to one side with Ser Barristan, all seeming to hold a silent vigil. A few other knights and soldiers stood around, paying quiet respects to the Lion of Lannister.

"I'm so sorry, Jaime. I'm sorry." Tyrion muttered quietly, wishing with all his might he could've changed this. That he could've been on better terms with Jaime, that he hadn't said the cruel things he had. He hadn't realized how much his brother meant to him until he was gone. And now it was too late. But he could still do something, as small as it would be. He would honor the wishes Jaime had put in his final letter. He would find a good knight for Robin to squire under, and find a nice place in court for Anne. He would make sure that everyone knew the truth about who Jaime Lannister really was. He would tell them of the book. Maybe he would try to have Dany read it, and maybe Ser Barristan as well, though the older knight seemed to have already realized his impressions of Jaime were false. Instead of letting them burn Jaime's body, Tyrion would have them bring him back to Casterly Rock to go under the keep with all the Lannister ancestors. As much as Jaime had hated staying in one place while he was alive, Tyrion knew he would hate to be burned.

Jaime Lannister had rode out of the city on Honor, and he returned to the city on Honor. No one had known the horse's name besides those who worked closest with Jaime. And no one had known the honor Jaime really carried with him until he was no longer there to see them accept it.

 **Ah, that was a crappy ending. It was pretty long though.**

 **I am considering making another story that will basically be what the book/journal that Jaime wrote is. Different one shots about Jaime's life, his thoughts and opinions and feelings because who can help but fall in love with the misunderstood knight? Let me know what you guys think, and if anyone would even read it!**


End file.
